Youth In Perpetuity
by MasterKaycee
Summary: An illegally Sired Giovanni struggles to become something other than a walking Masquerade breach.
1. Chapter 1

**September of 1973. Sicily, Italy.**

At first look, one would deem the room of gentlemen your typical stuffed suit Wall Street workers, puffing cigars and sipping brandy. A keener eye would pick up the subtleties that bring the scene from normalcy. The men's chalky pallor and the glint of sharp teeth are a dead giveaway of the lack of humanity in the room. All eyes turn to the door as a young girl enters. She, like the outward appearance of the gathering of gentlemen, is not as she seems. The girl walks past the men without the shyness or hesitation of one so young. There's something in the confidence in her stride, or perhaps the snugness of her dress, that suggests maturity beyond the pubescent guise. She pulls a decanter from the bar, removing the stopper with deft fingers and pouring a measure of the liquid into a heavy glass. The smell of scotch and copper permeates the room. She brings the glass to her lips, taking a mouthful of the ruby tinged liquid. She meets each set of curious eyes with a look of indifference before setting on a pair whose stormy blue color match her own. The corners of her full lips turn up ever so slightly as she crosses over to the man. He whispers something in Italian to her as the she hands the glass to the man, pressing her mouth to his before perching upon the arm of his chair. She crosses her legs, exposing flesh in a way that causes many of the men to avert their eyes. An imperceptible smirk is directed towards the few whose gaze lingers.

"Gentlemen, before I commence with the monotony of our business today, allow me to introduce my daughter, Karina." Karina's smirk intensifies at the quiet murmur in response. Her father's cold glare is enough to silence the room once more. The rest of the night is played out in strategies and acquisitions. Despite the mundane subject matter, young Karina remains rapt with attention. Her gaze switching from face to face as the men bounce ideas off one another. She keeps silent and still, moving only to refill her father's glass now and again. Each time, mindfully aware of the eyes that follow her progress, none quite as captivated as her father's.

Once the meeting is adjourned. The men bid farewell to the lord of the house, with a scant handful sparing a departing word to Karina. She takes note of the few, remembering their faces for future reference. Once the room empties, the man rises to pour his own drink, and Karina settles into his seat. "You had your sit in, dearest Karina. Do you still wish to control this arm of the company?" The barest hint of disbelief in discernible in his voice.

She responds, once again maturity beyond her appearance showing through. "Yes, Papa. I'm educated enough in this type of business, and your men won't be too difficult to sway in favor of my authority. Those who are more...rigid, can easy be coerced. Or otherwise."

Her father smiles proudly at his kin. "You have my permission to utilize control in whatever means necessary, darling." He knees at her feet, burying a hand in her dark curls. "Vincenzo can assist with any naysayers."

She smiles slightly, turning her head a fraction as he places his lips to her throat, kissing the twin scars that mar the otherwise flawless skin. "I'll make you proud, Papa."

A week or so later, the men are gathered once more. There's no mention of their bosses absence, nor of the presence of an older gentlemen keeping to the rear of the room. This time when the young girl enters, it's barely noticed. The men perhaps already accustomed to her. The only attention that lingers is from the white haired gentlemen in the back. Karina and he meet eyes in silent greeting. Once again she pours a drink, then takes a seat in the most prominent spot in the room. Resting the glass upon the arm of the chair, she clears her throat. It's noticeable, even in the din. "Gentlemen, I'll ask that you take your seats." A few of the men comply straightaway. Unsurprisingly, the same who spared a word for her at the end of the last meeting. The others shuffle and take their time, finishing up conversation before settling comfortably in their chairs. This lack of compliance brings a grim scowl to Karina's face.

Waving his cigar in her direction, one of the men runs a hand through his slicked back hair. "Hey dollface, where's your daddy? Bene' usually don' keep us waiting."

She meets the slick man's eyes. "My father is indisposed. I will be running tonight's meeting. Tonight and all thereafter, in fact." This statement is met with scornful laughter from most of the men in the room, loudest of which comes from the original inquirer. Karina rises from her chair, crossing the room to stand in front of the man. He leans back, a bemused expression on his face.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I don't take orders from no baby. Even if Bene' himself tells me to. Now why don't you go play with y' dolls or y' Easy Bake oven or somethin'"

Karina doesn't react to the insult, but an ear splitting bang echoes throughout the room. The man topples out of his chair. Blood and gristle pour from a gaping hole in his skull, onto the carpet. Standing behind the man's seat is the older gentlemen. His face is speckled with blood and the gun in his hand is still pointed to where the man's head was. The other men glance fearfully around at each other, before settling on Karina. She slowly walks back to her seat. Settling comfortably, taking a draft from the glass, she smiles. Her face is also spattered with blood, her grin showing sharp fangs coated with the dark mixture of scotch and vitae. "Thank you, Vincenzo." The older man nods respectfully, placing the revolver back in a shoulder holster. Turning her attention to the man closest to the twitching, bleeding mess on the floor. "You. Take -that- out to his car. Tell the driver he'll need to feed."

"Yes, miss." The man jumps up in an instant, hefting the fallen vampire over his shoulder and exiting the room with haste.

"Does anyone else have any negativity or disapproval they would like to direct my way?" She's greeted by silence. "Good. Now, before I was rudely interrupted." She pauses, as if expecting another outburst. Almost disappointed, she continues. "I will be taking over for my father, Benedict. That means, I am your new boss. From now on, everyone in this room will answer to me, and follow my direction." She bares her teeth in a smile. "To the T. Anyone who takes issue with this will be dealt with in the same manner as him." She gestures to the dark bloodstain on the carpet. "With all the threats and trivial nonsense out of the way, I'd like to take care of our actual business tonight. Someone fill me in on this week's progress." Almost immediately, one of the men start talking. Hesitating at first but more confident as neither Karina nor Vincenzo make a move toward him. The meeting continues uneventfully, and Karina even receives a few respectful handshakes at the closing of it.

After all Kindred are dispersed, Karina looks to her ghoul, impressed. "That was some excellent timing, Vincenzo. That couldn't of made a better impact if had been scripted."

Vincenzo's smile is apparent beneath the snow white of his mustache. "Thank you, Miss Karina. I must say, I'm quite inclined to address all insult to your character in such a manner." He sighs. "Your father might be a bit put out that his favorite rug is ruined."

Ghoul and vampire look down at the blood soaked carpet and Karina scoffs. "Like he can't afford to buy a dozen others."

Vincenzo starts moving the chairs aside, humming to himself as he rolls up the rug. Karina starts for the door. "Would you like for me to send your father in when he returns? Update him on tonight's progress?"

A flash of cold disgust crosses the young girl's face, wiped away before she answers. "No, Vincenzo. You fill him in. I have some work and study to get done, I'd rather not have his interruption."

The ghoul nods, avoiding his domitor's eyes in the chance that she may read pity in them. Perhaps she still senses it, for her "Goodnight, Vincenzo." is a touch more curt than usual. He opens his mouth to bid her a pleasant evening, as the door slams shut after her retreating figure. A sigh.

"Goodnight, Miss Karina."


	2. Chapter 2

**May of 2014. Sicily, Italy.**

Karina slams shut the heavy tome she was reading, causing Vincenzo to glance up from his newspaper. She stares down at the aged leather of the cover and furrows her brow. "Something wrong, Miss Karina?", the ghoul asks.

Karina looks to the ghoul, her deep blue eyes seem to be searching beyond his face. "I need to get away. From here." She turns her eyes away, speaking in a barely audible tone. "From him." She raises her voice. "I can't stand to be trapped under his wing any longer, Vincenzo. I'll go cage-mad." To avoid the ghoul's pity, she adds "More so, I'm never going to expand on my talents stuck here, rifling through the same dusty books over and over again."

Vincenzo folds his newspaper and studies his young mistress, once again struck with her determination to succeed. "I imagine you already have a plan for liberation?"

Karina's lips twitch into a minuscule smile. The ghoul knows her too well. "Bartertown, Vincenzo. I gather you've heard of it?" He nods in assent. "I feel as if this would be a perfect opportunity to spread my wings. So to speak." She tosses her book to the side, rising from her desk and pacing in small circles. "On the way, I can look into meeting my fellow Necromancers. I've been ostracized from the family for too long." Her tone is bitter.

"Indeed, Miss. If I'm not mistaken, the priest you've been so captivated by is currently residing with your cousin Bernito. Perhaps you can satiate your curiosity there."

Karina gives her ghoul a sly glance. He uses the word 'captivated' lightly. After hearing of Father Maletoni's trysts in Baltimore, the young Rosselini has hero worshiped the eccentric Giovanni. To learn under such a skilled Necromancer would be an honor. "Rumor has it, both the Salvatores and Miss Regina are also making their way to Bartertown."

Karina's expression brightens, her voice reflecting a childish glee at the prospect of consorting with her clan mates. "This is phenomenal. A chance to broaden my skills, expand my knowledge, make a name for myself among the clan..."

Her words trail off as her face darkens. All sense of juvenile exuberance is withdrawn from her demeanor. She looks to the ghoul with all the pleasantry of a thundercloud, the slightest hint of misery in her eyes. "Papa will -never- let me go." Her shoulders droop when the ghoul fails to argue her point.

"Benedict does prefer to keep in his sight, but maybe if you spoke with him? Appealed to his better nature?" The ghoul has a brief look of repulsion at his last words, mirrored on the young girl's face.

"He has no better nature. Just as he'd have no inclination to allow his prized possession to traipse around the globe." She turns her back to Vincenzo, to speak without his pitying gaze. "He covets me like the trophy wife Mother refused to be." Her eyes turn to the oil painting of the late Marietta Rosselini that hangs on her wall. She stares at the painting, deliberating her options, aware of her ghoul's expectant silence. "Perhaps...if you spoke with Papa..." she turns back to the ghoul, hopeful. "You could convince him. Tell him of my restlessness, my rancor at being cooped up indeterminately. What ever you need to say to sway him to the idea."

Vincenzo is hesitant, not wanting to intervene so directly between the young Rosselini and her father. "I don't know how favorable an idea that is, Miss Rina."

Karina almost appears taken aback at the lack of enthusiasm from the ghoul. Her expression quickly changes to one of ire and refusal to take 'no' for an answer. "It wasn't an idea, nor a question Vincenzo. It was a command. You will speak to Papa on my behalf, and you -will- persuade him to let me travel." In that moment, there is nothing childlike about young Karina. She speaks with the authority of one much beyond her years. The ghoul doesn't respond, but gives a weary nod to the girl, retreating to her father's study immediately. After he exits the room, Karina almost looks ashamed of herself. She regrets her insolent behavior towards the old man. With her own weary frown, she sits down at her vanity, glaring unhappily at the perpetually youthful reflection for several moments before rising and following after Vincenzo.

When she enters her father's study, both gentlemen are already deep in conversation. She lifts herself onto the large desk in the back of the room, keeping her head down until she hears her father speaks her name. "Yes, Papa?"

Benedict Rosselini levels a stare at his daughter that is both loving and stern. "Vinny tells me you wish to travel?"

Karina glances at both father and ghoul, a very different expression on her face for each man. "That is correct, Papa. I mentioned to Vincenzo that I wanted to visit Barter town and the surrounding areas, but was hesitant to ask you. I suppose once again Vincenzo has proved his worth by bringing it up to you, as I lacked the audacity to do it myself." She looks to the ghoul in silent apology.

"You must of known your Papa would be adverse to the idea."

Of course I did. The young girl thinks to herself, keeping such thoughts from her lips. Karina slides from the desk and approaches her father's chair. "Papa, I'm so very restless. Cooped up in the mansion night by night. I wish to explore beyond these four walls. I feel as if my knowledge has reached a plateau, which you know is one of my great despairs." Watching Benedict's expression, the young girl feels resentment. His eyes seem to rake over her body, his mind oblivious to the words she speaks. "I can't be imprisoned here forever, father. I'll go completely mad."

That statement gets the older Rosselini's attention. His deep blue eyes snap up to meet their match. "Do you feel as if I've bound you here? All this talk of exploring, Karina, is your true wish to escape your Papa?"

Karina is careful to avoid her ghoul's eyes, a latent fear that the truth will be exposed on either of their faces. She takes one of her father's hands between her own and speaks with a believable sincerity. "Never. You are my Papa, my Sire and the man I adore."

His expression softens as he pulls his young daughter onto his lap. "And I cherish you, my darling little Karina." It's a grand show of her mental clout that Karina doesn't let the slightest hint of disgust show upon her visage. The click of the study's door closing, nor Vincenzo's departure is unnoticed by the young girl. "Can you blame your Papa for wanting to keep you near? You're my prized possession, and if something were to happen to you I would be destroyed." He wraps an arm around her waist, resting his hand far up on her thigh.

She looks down at his wedding ring, still worn out of habit more than anything, and resists the urge to grimace. "Vincenzo is more than adept at watching over me, and I'm no paper tiger, father. I know how to defend myself. More importantly, I know how to bend those around me to my will."

Benedict misses the jibe to his own character, as he strokes the scars on the side of her pale throat. "You'll bring both Vincenzo and Marietta, then?" He shows no recognition from speaking his former wife's name.

"Yes, Papa." Karina replies, relishing in her victory whilst realizing she still has to undergo one last battle. She turns to face her father, the hem of her dress already pulled high upon her thighs by his deft maneuvering. She presses her full lips to his throat, the dark curls of her hair falling over her face. Grazing dainty fangs over his flesh, she is grateful to have her face buried in the niche of his neck, if only to avoid viewing the lust and desire that is likely etched in her father's face.

Three quarters of an hour later, Karina finds Vincenzo lounging in one of the kitchens. The ghoul sits at the breakfast nook, newspaper in his hands, an empty plate before him. He glances up at his young mistress, eyebrow raised in silent query. "I'm free." Karina's elation is apparent in those two words.

Knowing Benedict's ways the ghoul responds, "And the stipulations for your freedom?"

She retrieves his plate from the table, placing it in the sink. "Oh, there's an extensive amount of stipulations. None of which do I plan to adhere to."

Vincenzo turns the page of his newspaper. "As expected." he replies, not without affection.

Karina smile is unseen, hidden from the ghoul's eyes by his paper. "He did request that I bring you...and mother with me." Vincenzo nods, wordlessly. The young Rosselini circles the table, approaching the ghoul from behind. She wraps her arms around the gentleman, resting her chin upon his shoulder. "You'll come with me, won't you Vincenzo? I wouldn't dream of setting out on an exploit without your companionship."

The ghoul sets his paper down and pats the girl's arm in a paternal gesture. He smiles as he speaks. "Of course, Miss Karina." The young vampire and the ghoul embrace in that manner for a moment or two. Karina showing an endearment towards the gentleman that is rarely, if ever, seen by anyone else. She kisses his creased cheek and releases Vincenzo. "I'll make the arrangements to leave by tomorrow night." The ghoul knows she'll want to leave as soon as possible.

"Wonderful. Thank you, Vincenzo." Her spoken gratitude seems to cover a subject much broader than the one at hand. "I'll start packing right away." Karina heads upstairs to her bedroom, anticipating the following night and the happy prospect of escape.


	3. Chapter 3

**October of 1922. Sicily, Italy.**

"You treat her as if she's your girlfriend rather than your daughter." The bitter voice carries down the hall and is clearly heard by the young girl perched on the end of her bed, the ten-going-on-eleven year old who is also the subject of this dispute. Karina's face is anguished, stricken by the harsh words spoken by her mother.

"That is despicable, Marietta. Just what are you trying to insinuate?" Karina's father's voice sounds affronted, though lacks the tone of insult one would expect.

"It's no insinuation, Benedict. You pamper the girl. You spoil and dote on her as if you're trying to...court her!" Blatant disgust from the woman.

"She is my daughter. If I have the means to overindulge, then I will do so as I damned please."

The woman hisses a response, "Your daughter? If I hold no ownership of the little brat, there's clearly no need for me to assist in raising her."

The sound of her mother's malice draws young Karina from her room, escaping down the stairs and out of earshot. An older gentleman is seated at the kitchen island, a newspaper spread on the counter in front of him. She enters the room quietly, taking a seat on the stool next to the snowy haired man. He doesn't look up, and she doesn't address him, but they are both acutely aware of each other. After a moment, Karina speaks, eyes turned to the gentleman. "She hates me, doesn't she?" He shifts his gaze to her, soft brown eyes meeting her deep blue ones. The blue eyes fill with tears. "Mama hates me." Vincenzo sighs lightly, thinking to himself that no child should ever display such sorrow. He rises from his seat to embrace Karina. She tucks herself into his arms, but the tears do little more than shimmer in her eyes. The young girl's cheeks remain dry. He attempts no words of comfort, knowing there are none. She is highly intelligent for her age, and more than capable of understanding her parent's feuding, there's little point in trying to mollify her. Her back to the dining room, Karina doesn't see her father standing in the archway to the kitchen. Vincenzo see him peripherally, but does not acknowledge the man. Both parties miss the wanton yearning in his face, directed at the young girl in Vincenzo's arms.

A year passes. The same young girl, now eleven, approaches her mother as fear and guilt churns in her gut. The woman sits at her vanity, testing different shades of lipstick, turning this way and that. Her face seems to cloud over as she catches the reflection of her daughter in the mirror. "Aren't you supposed to be in the library?" she says, brusquely.

Karina inches towards her mother, a strange look on her face. It appears if there is something ready to burst from her lips. A confession of sorts. "Mama. Mama, I have to tell you so..." She trails off once Marietta turns in her seat, perusing the girl with an odd expression of her own.

The woman looks Karina over in a cold, calculated manner. She notes the dread in the girl's eyes. The timidity of her stance. She thinks of the way her husband has acted around the girl, as of late. Despite his observation of Karina, this is the first time she herself has noticed the prominent maturing of her daughter. She meets her daughter's eyes, which seem to be pleading with her own. There is nothing maternal in Marietta's stare, and much to Karina's dismay, the woman turns back to her own reflection. "Go back to your books, Karina."

The young girl reaches for her mother. "Please, Mama."

Marietta pulls away, speaking in a cruel tone. "Get out of my sight."

A week later, Karina stands in front of her father's study door. She's deftly avoiding both her parents, lately, for much different reasons. While her mother is indifferent, she knows her father has felt the obvious aversion. She keeps to her room, feigning sleep when Benedict passes. She isn't sure she can keep her poise long enough to be in his vicinity, or worse, if he touches her. A grip of nausea passes through the young woman, and she draws away from the closed door. She is torn between animosity towards her father and his actions, and a deep set need to mend whatever bonds may be broken between them. A moment of silent contemplation, the child's face showing more thoughtfulness and maturity than should be present in one so young. She gains her bearings and turns the doorknob to enter her father's study.

At first, it looks as though Benedict Rosselini is missing from the room. Karina notices his favorite high-backed chair facing the bay window, the side of his arm is visible from her point of view. "Papa?" She hears a quiet sigh from the man in the chair. Approaching tentatively, bare feet barely whispering on the hardwood floor, Karina come round to her father's chair. The dimness of the room doesn't conceal the look of sorrow on his handsome face, nor does it conceal the sight of the revolver gripped in his hand. The young girl's mouth drops open in horror as her Papa looks to her, eyes full of grief.

"Karina, my little love."

Unthinking, the young girl reaches out to touch his hand, or perhaps the gun. He jerks back, retaining his grasp on the oiled steel. "Please Papa, put it down. Let's...let's just talk, OK? Please?" She trembles, frightened by the desperation on the man's face.

His voice cracks as he speaks. "My love, I have done a terrible thing to you. You're my heart and soul, darling Karina. I took advantage of a daughter's love and I should pay penance for it." He hefts the barrel, pressing it to his temple with a shaking hand.

With no thought of self preservation, Karina drops to her knees at her father's feet and pulls at his arm with all of her futile strength. "No! Papa don't! Please, please...I need you." she begs.

"You don't need a Papa that hurts you, and I have no reason to live without my darling's love..." His finger tightens on the trigger. Karina gives one last wrench at his arm, howling her love to her father. Benedict gives in to Karina's pulling and stares at his daughter, his face eerily calm. "You still love your father?"

Karina clutches at her father, still on her knees. "Of course I do! You're my Papa, and I love you forever. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Her words come out in a desperate torrent, her eyes are wide and focused on her father's face.

Benedict's hand reaches down to stroke her dark curls, and she closes her eyes, pressing her face into his palm. Looking up at the sound of him setting the gun on his desk, Karina climbs onto her father's lap, wrapping her arms around him and covering his face with exuberant kisses. The older Rosellini shifts in his seat and presses a hand to the small of the girl's back. He speaks quietly into his daughter's ear. "What we did must be kept a secret, my little love. Mama can't know, Vincenzo...no one can. Or else..." He trails off, letting her fill in the rest.

Karina's eyes glance back to the gun on the desk and she shudders. "Never, Papa." His fingers lift her chin and he places a soft kiss to his daughter's lips. She curls into his lap and soon falls asleep.

Many hours later, after Benedict carries the child to her room and begrudgingly crawls into bed with his wife, Karina awakens and creeps silently back to her father's study. She flicks on the desk lamp, spotting the object she seeks in the scant light. The revolver lay unmoved on the desk blotter where Benedict set it. She flinches, recalling her father's earlier desperation. Hesitant, she places her small hand on the cold metal. Thinking of her Papa's safety, Karina musters her courage and lifts the weapon, spinning open the barrel as she has seen Vincenzo do many times before. Staring down at the cylinder, it takes several moments before she absorbs what she's seeing. The wells for the bullets are empty, the cylinder itself unloaded. The young girl looks up, her reflection in the dark window appearing blank and cold. No. Not blank. Resigned. There's only the slightest tremble to her hand as she snaps the cylinder back into place. She replaces the gun in the same position it was when she came in. The same position her Papa left it in when he set it aside, whilst she begged. Unconsciously wiping her hands on her nightdress, Karina exits the room in silence. Climbing back into her bed, sleep is a long time coming as she stares at the shadows on her ceiling, that same cold, resigned look on her face.


	4. Chapter 4

**April of 1924. Sicily, Italy.**

It was early in April when Benedict Rosselini left for a party. Kissing Karina on one pink cheek, he explains it's a special party for just the adults of the family. He's unbothered by his wife's disinterest, and promises to return to his daughter hastily. In the three months after his disappearance, twelve year old Karina is forced into a premature self reliance. Her mother pays no mind to the girl, and Vincenzo seems to be absent more often than not. Keeping to the confines of her room, she watches her mother's suitors come and go. As each month passes, she loses hope that her beloved father will return.

Karina awakens in the dead of night, alerted to the sound of someones approach. The footsteps are quiet, yet purposeful and she fears it's one of her mother's men, perhaps seeking to sate more than his eye's hunger. Her door creaks open, and a figure is silhouetted in the dim hallway light. Karina recognizes the stance and shape and leaps off the bed with a shout. "Papa!"

Benedict holds out a silencing hand, ear pointed towards the hallway. "Is your mother home?"

The young girl shakes her head. "Mama left early in the afternoon. She'll be lost in her boozing and wayward whoring most of the night."

Benedict closes the bedroom door and smiles at his daughter. "Such language from my angel, has so much changed in my absence?" The moonlight seems to glint brightly off his teeth.

Karina rushes forward into his embrace, and her words are muffled as she buries her face in his coat. "You came back, I knew you would! I knew you wouldn't leave me."

Her father's lips press to her forehead, and he sets his hands on the young girl's shoulders. "No, I would never desert you, my little love."

Goosebumps raise on the skin under Karina's thin night dress. "Your hands are freezing, what have you been doing? Where have you been?"

Benedict shakes his head, dismissing his daughter's queries. "All that matters is that I came back for you." His cold hands wrap around the girl's waist, leading her back to sit upon the ruffled bedspread. "I want to share a gift with you, my love. Would you like to stay with your Papa forever?"

A crease forms in between the girl's brows, she seems perplexed by his tone. "Of course I want to stay with you, Papa. But, what..." She trails off at the sight of his wide grin. His teeth appear unusually sharp. With a curious expression, Karina reaches towards his face, pressing a thumb against on the his canines. It pierces her skin with ease, drawing a tiny drop of blood.

Her father inhales briskly, and his eyes flash with urgency. He takes her hands in his, stealing away their warmth. Benedict leans forward, bringing his face close to his daughter's. "You must be quiet for me, Karina." His lips brush her neck as he speaks.

She pulls back a fraction of an inch. "That tickles." Her words are cut off with a gasp as she feels the moist confines of his mouth on her skin. The gasp turns to a whimper as his teeth penetrate the scant flesh of the girl's throat. Trickles of blood cut crimson trails down her neck, saturating the fabric of her night gown. Suddenly wracked with overwhelming pain, Karina hitches in a breath to scream. Her father tightens his grip on her, clamping one hand around her mouth to muffle the shriek. She struggles against the agony, but her father's strength conquers her own. He continues to feed at his daughter's throat, even as she grays out from the pain.

A short amount of time later, Benedict gently shakes Karina's shoulders. "Karina, darling. Wake up, little love." Weak and pale from blood loss, the young girl can do little than force her eyes open and peer at her father, helplessly. "Here, my darling. Drink this. Drink from Papa. It will revive you." He presses the cold skin of his exposed wrist to the girl's mouth. A drop of warm liquid seeps between her lips, and her tongue creeps out of it's own accord. The taste seems to illicit a response from the debilitated young girls, and her lips part to allow access to her open mouth. She swallows as the metallic tang of blood permeates the air. After a few pulls from the wound, Karina has the strength to sit up. She clings to her father's arm, eyes now focused on the look of bliss upon the man's face. Her grip tightens, and Benedict grunts in discomfort. "Enough, Karina." She grabs tighter, greedily trying to prevent him from removing his hand. He pulls away and the young girl hisses angrily, stray rivulets of blood dropping down her chin. Seeming to be shocked by her own reaction, Karina covers her mouth, feeling the moisture and frantically wiping it from her skin. Her father seems undisturbed by her reaction. She watches the wound on his wrist knit itself together without comment, but turns her silently inquisitive gaze to his face. He appears overjoyed, and pulls Karina in for a deep kiss. Tasting her own blood in his mouth, she shudders and pulls back, parting her lips to question him. "Not now, my love. I must tie up loose ends before we're truly together. I will return for you, my darling Karina." He seems almost giddy as he quickly disappears from the room, leaving Karina bewildered and unable to comprehend what happened.

Disoriented, Karina waits in her room. She pulls her blanket over her legs and sits there for an indeterminate amount of time. Through the haze, she hears a slightly slurred voice from the hallway. "There you are, bambina."

Not reacting to the voice, Karina still appears dazed. She turns to the door slowly, seeming confused when it isn't her father returning for her. She vaguely recognizes the man in the doorway. "Go away, Sergio." The stench of whiskey reaches her, and she shakes her head a bit. He's stumbling drunk, perhaps why he doesn't take notice of her blood spattered night gown. "My mother is likely downstairs, why don't you go find her." She rises to shut the door on the man, but he pushes into her room.

"No, no bambina. I was looking for you. I hear Bene' ran out on you and your mother. Pity..."

He smirks and strokes a hand against the girl's face before Karina slaps it away, angrily. She backs up a few steps, a furious look on her face. "Get the hell out of my room." she growls.

The smile seems to melt off of Sergio's lips. "Che cazzo hai detto tu stronzetto?" he spits out.

"I said get the hell out of my room, suino."

A strong, calloused hand clamps on Karina's shoulder and the man pushes her against her vanity. He snatches at the hem of her nightgown as she struggles in his grasp. "Wassamatter, bambina? Too good to fuck anyone but Daddy?" With a wordless shriek, she slashes her nails across his face, drawing five perfect lines of blood. "Piccola cagna!" He reaches for Karina's throat, before being flung across the room. The smell of blood becomes heady as some barely visible entity begins attacking Sergio. Eyes focusing, Karina sees her father, blood smeared across his features, eviscerating her assailant. Despite the hunger the smell brings to her awareness, Karina darts from the room in near terror.

Searching desperately for Vincenzo, Karina instead finds her mother exiting the servant's quarters, tucking what looks like a wad of money into her purse. She spares barely a glance to her daughter, despite the young girl's obvious distress. "Mother..." she cries to the woman's retreating form. Marietta enters her own bedroom, where several suitcases lay open on the bed. "Mama, please!" Karina grabs at her mother's arm. "Something horrible has happened. Papa..."

Her mother pulls from her grasp. "Papa has left you, and now so am I. Where is Sergio? I sent him to pack my valuables."

Overwhelmed by the night's events and her mother's utter disregard for her, Karina sinks to her knees. "Sergio came to my room...he tried to hurt me. I'm so confused, Mama."

Instead of pity, rage seems to burn in Marietta's eyes. "What have you done now? What did you do to Sergio?" Her eyes survey her young daughter, taking in the bloodstained and now torn nightgown. Her expression is not unlike a scorned woman, setting eyes upon her lover's mistress. "You little whore!"

"What? Mama, no!"

Marietta kicks out at her cowering daughter. "You've stolen away yet another one of my men! Since the day you were born, you've been nothing but a thorn in my side! Disgustoso!" Karina shakes her head wildly, pressing her hands to her ears unable to submit to her mother's accusations. The older woman crouches down, pulling the young girl's hands away and glaring into her eyes. "He was my man. My husband. You took him from me, you whore. He was supposed to be loving me, and he wanted you. A child. My man was supposed to be taking care of me and making love to me, instead he was fucking my daughter." With those words, Marietta sucks in a gasp of air before spitting squarely in her daughter's face.

Something seems to ignite in Karina. A ravenous anger, too strong for the paltry restraint of a child. Her small hands twist around to reverse her mother's grasp. She clenches, and the woman gives a sharp yelp of pain. The child is on her in a heartbeat and Marietta has less time than that to hitch in a breath before Karina's small and inexperienced fangs are deep in her throat. Small ripping sounds are heard as Karina quenches her hunger, satiating herself in many manners. She's oblivious to her mother's passing, and just as blind to her father's presence as he watches his Childe drink his wife's life away. His smug and slightly lascivious expression linger until both attentions are brought to the servant's entrance. Vincenzo shouts an expletive, and Karina releases her mother with a gasp, placing her hands to her bloody lips. Uncomprehending, Karina's deep blue eyes flit between both gentleman. Vincenzo looks at the scene in front of him, before turning to the elder Rosselini in disgust. "Benedict, what the hell are you thinking?!" the servant barks at his master, Rosselini and the old man shout back and forth, as Karina recoils into herself. Benedict makes as if to approach his daughter, and is pulled back by Vincenzo. The old man pushes Benedict away, speaking Italian briskly, directing him down the stairs. Karina's father rests eyes on her longingly. Vincenzo speaks in the man's ear quietly. "If you don't want Karina and yourself to both be destroyed, do as I say!" With a disgruntled grimace, Benedict retreats.

Vincenzo stares down at the child, pressing a hand to his wrinkled forehead wearily. She's silent, radiating unease and still immobile on the carpet. He approaches slowly, speaking with respect and reverence. "Miss Karina?"

She looks up at him, cautious but not tearful. "What happened to our family?" she asks in a broken voice.

Empathy is rampant on Vincenzo's expression as he gently lifts the young girl to her feet. His hands rest on her shoulders, and she stares up into the old, wise eyes. "I'll tell you of your family, Karina. I will tell you everything."


	5. Chapter 5

**January of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The hotel hallway is silent as Karina, Renaldo and Vincenzo exit the elevator. With a nod and a surprisingly cordial bid farewell, The Don and Donna part ways. Renaldo walking down the adjacent hallway to his room as Karina heads towards her own. Arriving at the door, Karina taps her foot impatiently as Vincenzo swipes the key card. "This is so very inconvenient." she comments, lamenting the temporary loss of a haven's comforts. The old man nods in agreement as he ushers the girl into the opulent, albeit generically so, room. Karina steps from her shoes in a fluid manner, and collapses upon the bedspread, feigning an exhaustion she doesn't really feel.

The ghoul catches this little performance and smiles knowingly at the young girl. "Wearied already, Miss Karina?"

She looks up, and a rare smile crosses her face. "Of course not. I haven't felt this exhilarated in decades. I finally am allotted the power I deserve, the power I've earned." Karina sits up straighter, her preening reminiscent of a peacock flashing it's tail.

"You have been working tirelessly since your promotion. Mr. Renaldo, as well."

Karina nods. "Indeed. I'm pleased that Renaldo is showing such promise. I must admit I had my doubts about his contribution to the family." She opens the drawer next to her night table, rifling through it.

"You've certainly voiced as much, Miss Karina." Vincenzo hands the young girl her laptop, and she stops searching with a grateful look upon her face. The gentleman pats Karina's head affectionately, the dark curls bouncing from his touch.

She pulls up a few notes and peruses them. Finger tapping her chin, thoughtfully. "My meeting with David was predominantly a bust. The fact that he abstained from telling me of his previous correspondence with the dancer leads me to lose faith in any information he gives me in the future. Regardless, his personal.." she cringes "..interest in me may prove useful, so I won't overlook his assistance completely."

Vincenzo seems thoughtful. "Perhaps his self preservation led him to omit his part in this, for fear of being damned by association." She makes a note on her computer, voicing her own agreement. "What about the mercenaries? Sasa and Mongrel?"

Karina looks displeased. "Quelli cazzo froci?" she spits out.

"Mind your language, Karina."

She rolls her eyes. "I can only hope they're not as stupid as they're portraying themselves to be. The Serbian must truly believe he is beyond the Giovanni recompense. Perhaps he'll be reassured with the removal of certain vital body parts." Before Vincenzo can interject, she continues. "Of course this will be done in the most legal way, as to not tarnish the reputation of my family. But, with Mickey's boss behind us, this will be enacted with ease."

Vincenzo pulls a bottled water from the refrigerator and takes a few swallows before pressing Karina further. "And what of Blair?" He doesn't elaborate, but she knows what he asks.

"I will, however grudgingly, hold to Mickey's request. Much like Bernito, it is my first consideration to call for her blood to be spilled. But for now, the alliance with Mickey and the investors is more important." She speaks through gritted teeth. "And to think I admired the Brujah for her gall not too long ago." In a low voice, reminiscent of a growl. "She should be dead. Her and the filthy dog that enlisted her." Vincenzo places a hand on her shoulder, as if to calm the young girl. "None of this...NONE of this would have happened, had our family been standing as a unit. They wouldn't dare." She reaches up to squeeze the ghoul's hand. "I will not allow bickering and animosity in this family any longer. Famiglia. Prima."

Vincenzo stares down at his young mistress with pride. "I couldn't agree more, Miss Karina. I believe between Renaldo's diplomacy and your...tenacity, the Giovanni family will once more become a force to be reckoned with."

Again, Karina shares a normally unseen smile with her ghoul. "I always appreciate your continued confidence in me, Vincenzo. It means more than..." She trails off, at a rare lack of words. Vincenzo understands, regardless, used to her ineptitude to convey affection. He plants a kiss on the pale skin of her forehead, the fatherly devotion in the action obvious and perceptible. The ghoul crosses the room to take a seat in one of the rich leather chairs scattered around the room, removing his ever present newspaper from his coat pocket and flipping to the funny pages. Karina reclines on the bed, with a glance at the clock. "I would of hoped the Lieutenant would of returned by now, preferably with the information I seek." She glares at the nearby apparition of her mother, as if it's the woman's fault. "And Jackie boy is still with Renaldo, as I ordered?" Both wraith and ghoul give a nod of agreement. She seems pleased at this news, at least. "I think it's time I accumulated another Spirito."

Vincenzo responds, not looking up from his paper. "If you deem it necessary, miss. You can never have too much bulwark." The pair once more fall into a comfortable silence.

The harsh ring of Karina's cell phone breaks the lull, and she snatches it up with haste. One glance at the caller display brings chagrin to the girl's face. "It's Papa. Again." The phone continues to ring.

"It's been over six months, Karina. You're going to have to speak to your father, eventually." Vincenzo chides. Her expression is rife with discontent as she holds the phone towards the ghoul. They remain at an impasse until the device completes it's last ring. Less than a minute later, Vincenzo's phone begins to ring from his pocket. The gentleman stares at Karina for a moment, before sighing, retrieving and answering his own phone. Relief from the young Rosselini as she hears his salutation. "Good evening, Benedict. No, unfortunately you just missed her..."


	6. Chapter 6

February of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.

A high class hotel in Annapolis. Rain comes down in sheets, clearing the parking lot and streets of most of the area's inhabitants. A young gentleman stands, looking up to a topmost window of the building. He retrieves a side arm slingshot from inside his jacket. Loads it with a piece of broken asphalt and fires it at the window. Inside the room, the sounds of a light symphony are practically drowned out by the rain. Nevertheless, the young girl and older gentleman residing in the room turn their heads to the sound. Seated closer to the window, Vincenzo looks out in attempt to identify the individual. Outside, floors and floors down to the parking lot, a young man preps another rock and waves. Vincenzo waves back, jovial as usual. Turning to Karina, he informs her "I don't recognize the young man." The young girl, more curious than troubled, directs a command to her wraith. The soldier nods and makes his way downstairs to greet the man.

Unsmiling, the former Lieutenant Mann appears in front of the rock thrower.

Extending a hand, the young man merely says, "Hey."

Lt. Mann stares at the proffered hand, dutifully ignoring it. "Miss Rosselini wishes for you to identify yourself, and your intentions."

The other gentleman seems unfazed by the snub. "Oh, is this the right place? Right on. I'm Samuel, and I'm looking for Mr. Brown."

The wraith crosses his arms. "You're looking in the wrong place."

Samuel insists, "I don't believe so. Karina knows him, and she'll want to see me."

The wraith's face remains impassive as he responds. "Somehow I doubt that, but I'll inform her regardless. You wait here." The wraith heads back into the building, catching Samuel's parting comment.

"Thanks, faggot."

"Disrespectful little shit." mumbles the wraith, as he returns to Karina's room. He informs the young girl of the gentleman's declaration, and to the surprise of every being in the room, Karina slides on her shoes and heads off to meet the stranger. The rain continues to pour, so she stays under a widely jutting awning, Vincenzo at her back. The ghoul cheerfully greets the man as Karina looks him over. The young man is of dark complexion, wearing a stylish and artisan suit with fur about the shoulders. She meets his gaze. "Mr. Brown is not currently in my service."

The well dressed gentleman pulls a small pink carnation bulb from his coat and presents it to her, with a nod to the ghoul behind her. "That's wonderful to know. I had heard from the rude shit that answered that door that you wouldn't see me. I would like to thank you for your time, I'm sure it's precious to you."

The slightest twitch is seen from the corner of the girl's lips as she takes the bulb."I've often thought so. Why do you seek Mr. Brown?"

He replies, "I've been looking for him for about half a year, now. I had heard that he was killed by some necromancers, and that's... pretty okay with me. Really, I just wondered if he's still around. You know, dead."

Karina spins the carnation bud between her fingers. "He very well might be. What would lead you to seek an individual for such an extended amount of time?"

He first puts up his right hand in a gesture of passivity, then uses his left to expose a jeweled semi-automatic firearm in a leather holster. "I had some questions for him."

Despite Samuel's neutrality, Vincenzo adjusts his position in a subtle movement, bring himself closer to the two, his back facing Karina. A smile remains on the ghoul's face. Karina glances at the gun. "Fancy." Her tone is unimpressed. "What has Mr. Brown done to illicit such a inquiry?"

"He killed one of my girls when he stole some equipment from my haven. Really, I'd like to thank the person that killed him."

Unsurprised, Karina responds."Owen seemed to be quite the troublemaker. His untimely end seems more deserving every day."

The dark skinned gentleman looks around, surveying the surroundings. "I just realized that we're still outside, and that's rude. I'd like to discuss this with you further," he pauses, looking to Vincenzo. "I hope it wouldn't be too forward to ask for a chance to discuss in a more neutral setting. Perhaps a night at the bar? I know it's probably difficult for a young woman with your disability to get the proper service."

Her jaw tightens at the word 'disability', but when she speaks her voice remains cool and calm. "The bar will suffice."

"Cool." He offers a hand Vincenzo, "I'm sorry, I never asked your name sir."

The ghoul provides a warm, firm grip to the offered hand. "Vincenzo Albertelli, signore." he says, with a nod of his head.

"Mr. Albertelli, would you mind terribly if I took your ward for a drink?" Samuel's grasp is cold and rigid.

Vincenzo chuckles. "I hold no qualms with Miss Karina indulging herself." Karina's face remains passive, the only hint to her agitation being the still-clenched muscle along her jawline.

"Wonderful. Should you be in the mood for indulgence, and a break from business, I'm available when you are."

"The hotel bar is more than adequate." she says, as she gestures for him to follow. Samuel signals to the attendant to care for his vehicle, and follows the young girl into the bar.

Karina leads him into the pleasantly dim room, already familiar with the soft ambiance from the jukebox. The bar clientele is sparse as she walks over to the gleaming bar top with confidence, taking her usual seat towards the end of the bar. She watches Samuel approach from her peripheral vision. "What's your drink of choice?" he asks, taking a seat next to her.

Another almost imperceptible twitch of the lips, as the bartender hurries over with her customary glass of scotch. "And for your friend?" asks the bartender, eager to serve.

"OG Brandy, XO." Turning to Karina, Samuel asks, "How is the whole experiment going?"

She sips her scotch, savoring the flavor before she speaks. "Experiment?"

The bartender rushes back over, much to the disdain of a single waiting customer. He places the drink on a napkin in front of Samuel. Samuel nods to the tender and replies softly, "The BT experiment. DC is abuzz with news about it. Is it as decrepit and sleazy as we've heard?"

Karina watches the bartender scurry away before answering. "Depends on the class of the clientele you ask. I personally find it to be a delightful little town." Her flat tone betrays no hint of honesty or sarcasm.

"Good. I'm hoping to set up shop, soon. I'm looking to expand my business. So, what do you do there?"

The young girl ponders this newcomers line of questioning, deciding to answer in a guarded manner. "I do whatever is needed. That is, anything my 'disability' doesn't get in the way of. What business do you handle?"

"I work in human resources for non-legal operations and territory acquisition. By the way, hope I didn't offend. I'm told we all have our flaws and disabilities. Some are just a little more obvious."

Impressed by his tact, she replies. "Interesting." She drinks the remaining scotch, and the bartender is back with another before the empty glass hits the table. "That's why those so obviously disabled must often struggle to prove their worth."

He sips from his shot glass. "Yeah, and if they're still alive, they must be worth something."

Relieved by his respectful manner, Karina responds. "You are not incorrect." The bartender places a bowl of mixed nuts between the two. Karina stares at the bowl and shakes her head after the 'tender retreats.

"I never am." Samuel speaks as if stating the color of a flower. Obvious and without bias. He takes another sip from his glass.

"At least we have something in common. An in depth conversation between the two of us could end up a very interesting thing, indeed." The young girl traces her finger along the rim of her glass.

"It might be boring. Half the fun is to prove your overwhelming superiority over your peers. Although, one conversation without hitting my head against a brick in frustration would be like a vacation to me."

Karina sips from the glass, enjoying the subject. "The most amusement is found when they prove it, themselves. It almost makes you question if you yourself are actually that brilliant, or is everyone else just incompetent and moronic?" She pauses, "No, actually I never question that."

"I try to stay humble, but it's occasionally difficult. I can see you being the type of person to have no issues with free expression of your superiority." He takes a sip.

"Oh, you picked up on that?" She keeps her amusement contained from her voice.

"I told you, I'm always correct." He finishes off the liquor in his glass. "How about you, though? You seem proud, but why?"

Ever the pompous intellectual, Karina quickly answers,"Because I have no reason not to be."

The bartender dashes over, providing Samuel with the same quick refill service. "Opulence is important."

In her fine clothing and tasteful adornments, the young girl expresses that statement, silently. "It is. It's refreshing to meet someone who shares the sentiment."

He sips the drink and suddenly asserts, "We're really good at talking well of ourselves."

"Indeed." She turns in her seat and blatantly looks the man over once more. "I find it curious that you've chosen to spend your time conversing with a young girl, rather than seeking the man you wish to question." Her hand rests under her chin as she speaks, index finger tapping her bottom lip.

"It's not often that you meet a child kindred that's been alive more than a month."

The young girl seems to preen,"True, I haven't met anyone else quite like myself. In nature or talent."

She spreads her hands. "And again, we return to pride and verbal dick stroking." She takes another drink.

"I'm glad you said it. I tend to try to not mention a man's member around a lady that isn't paid to care about it."

She taps her fingers on the bar top, fighting amusement once more. "Especially one that appears underage. I believe that's illegal."

He seems to notice the small twitch of her lips, hinting towards a smile. "I might be a cop, though. You have an ID on you?"

Always prepared, Karina replies, "Of course. Just look into my eyes for a moment."

He turns to her gaze and flashes eyes of pure gold. "I'm okay with that."

Her own deep blue eyes meet his, unwavering. "Everything is is quite normal with my identification. Just a young woman who unfortunately looks younger than she is." From her small handbag, she removes an ID card. The card appears to have a generic, unmemorable name, and the appropriate drinking age.

He glances, convinced. "That's legit." Meeting eyes once more, his golden eyes haze over, they seem to drip into the atmosphere, gilding the air. The young girl is unable to look away from his stare as he calmly recites, "My name is Samuel, king of kings: Look on my beauty, ye Mighty, and despair!" Karina keeps her gaze on his, and sense of smugness in her expression has faded away. Not breaking his channeling of her eyes, he whispers again, "You spark my interest, no I don't know you. Just offering the common respect I feel I owe you." Then, breaking the gaze, he calls for another drink for himself.

The bartender rushes over, apologizing for the delay while placing a fresh drink on the table.

Karina blinks, and turns back to the bar top. "Thank you, Lloyd." she says, before he walks away. Another slow, savory sip from her glass. "Touche, Samuel." Even with her hardened demeanor, she can't help but be impressed.

"Thank you, ma'am." He sips from his glass. "Have you ever seen something like that?"

"I haven't. I take it that wasn't just your overwhelming charm and magnetism?" She speaks in a dry manner.

"Oh, it was. I just needed to make sure that there's not someone else this smart and handsome in the area."

She sniffs haughtily, whether in amusement or disapproval is not apparent. "Oh, I don't know about that. Vincenzo is quite a ladies man." She states this knowing that the older gentleman is likely somewhere in the hotel, flirting with the staff.

"That doesn't surprise me at all, really. Is he your grandfather? Grandson? If I can ask, I mean."

She smirks. "You can ask, as you've proved by doing so." Another sip of her drink. "Vincenzo is my servant, and a very useful one."

He lifts his glass a few inches above the bar. "To useful help. May they be competent and never stop cleaning up after us."

She returns the toast. "Do you make a habit of leaving messes, Samuel? You seem like more of the tidy type."

"I've only had three messes, I'd like to think. Two of those times, it was people like your Mr. Albertelli that saved me."

"And the third time?"

"Door number three had some heat on it." The man brings a delicate hand to his cup, and shoots the rest of the amber liquid. "And I spend 12G on a custom pea-shooter for nothing."

"Not for nothing, perhaps. An extravagant item for a man of might and beauty. Perhaps our choice of weapons reflect ourselves?"

He jiggles his glass, resting an elbow on the bar. "OG Brandy. I like to think that everything presented is a reflection of the individual, else they wouldn't present it. That's what I've been told, at least."

"Hmm, I wonder what my embellishments say about me?" She lifts the hem of her dress, exposing the tops of her knee high stockings and above them, a small pistol in a thigh holster.

Looking down towards the exposed skin, and over to the gun, Samuel nods his head lightly and pulls his cheeks back in approval."Quite the shapely weapon."

She adjusts the bow on top of one stocking, before smoothing the dress back down her thighs.

"I use my weapons well." she responds, crossing her legs at the knee.

Returning his attention to his glass, he spins it while attempting to prevent the amber liquor from spilling. "You really do. Any other heat that I should know about before you flash it?"

"Plenty. Although, whether or not you you should know about it remains to be seen." She reaches across, steadying the glass. "You don't want to waste fine liquor, sir."

He places a cool and firm hand on hers and lightly pulls it from the glass. With the other, he brings the liquor to his lips and lets it slowly drain into his awaiting tongue.

"A wise decision." She drains her own glass, once more. Both drinks are replenished with haste. "Such a dutiful gentleman." she says, referring to the bartender.

"I hope you tip as well as I do. He deserves it."

Samuel takes the shot, and places the glass upside down on the table. Spinning on the stool to turn about, he lightly stumbles and asks in a voice tinted lightly with a new accent, "Is there a jukebox here? Is that still a thing?"

She turns in her own chair, facing one of the walls. Leaning her back against the bar, she points at the jukebox with one dainty hand and brings the scotch to her lips with the other.

Finding his way to the music box, he inserts a few coins after rummaging through his seemingly infinite number of pockets. After removing his coat, draping it across his arm, and spelunking his various purses he finds a sparse amount of coined currency. He places a few inside, seeming to show earnest delight at the selection. After the coins reach their lowly destination with a satisfying clunk, Bing Crosby begins emitting loudly from the bar's speaker system. Strolling back, and keeping impressive balance, he leans on the bar. "I felt that a classy young woman deserved a nice song in her honor. That, and I look good walking to Crosby."

Having kept eyes on the gentleman for the duration of his foray to the jukebox, she comments: "Do you? I hadn't noticed." She takes another drink, perhaps to hide the upward curve of her lips.

Samuel places his hands in the air and performs a quick 360 on his heels in time with the crescendo of a powerful trombone solo. "Better?"

"I wonder what you'll do if I say no?" She sounds amused.

Ignoring her comment, the young man seems gaily transfixed on her neck. "I'm seeing a glint of jewel on your ear. May I?"

She draws her dark curls back, pulls them over her shoulder and inclines her head to the side.

He moves her closer by turning her stool a few degrees, placing a hand on the edge of the seat and pulling lightly. With a deft and rigid hand, he holds the slight jewelry between his index finger and thumb. "It's absolutely astounding."

"Did you expect any less?" Her blue eyes stare up at him through long lashes.

Letting his fingers rest against her neck, he pulls the seat a slight bit more in order to have her legs against his. "I expected much less from this evening. Maybe I should stop trusting horoscopes."

"Horoscopes? I'd be hard-pressed to believe a man of your intellect would bother with such refuse." She uses the lack of distance to rest her dangling foot against his ankle.

"No need to hard-press yourself, I'm merely joking." He leans forward and states, along with a light chuckle near her ear. He takes the opportunity of earring admiration to inhale the scent from her brown curls.

"I never doubted it." She silently basks in his attention.

His hands find a place at her neck, tracing speaks in a hushed tone, still with his nose and lips in her hair. "Maybe I should go. We can always meet up and discuss our superiority another night, yes?"

She raises her chin a bit, a small, subdued smile resting upon her full lips. She ignores the first statement. "We could, with the abundance of nights in both of our futures."

"There are quite a few nights ahead with a need to fill with worthy conversation." He dares only to kiss her neck lightly, then pulls away to gauge her reaction and to gain a view of the other hotel residents.

Most of the occupants of the bar seem more absorbed in their beverages than the pair of them. The bartender seems to be purposefully averting his eyes. Karina turns in the slightest and retrieves her drink. "The only question is if this current conversation is stimulating enough to continue, tonight." She sips her drink, grazing her tongue along her bottom lip, clearing it of residual liquor.

"I attempt to be as impressively stimulating as possible, and I feel like I've found the one other kindred in thousands of miles that may be more interesting than a mirror." Pushing his glass towards the edge of the counter and retrieving a few bills from his wallet, he leaves a generous tip for the tender. "There are very important men waiting for me in DC that, frankly, I can't make myself give a damn about."

"You are both impressive and stimulating, Samuel. After all, most will state the level of talent and effort it takes to bring a smile to my face." She shifts in her seat, crossing her legs the other direction. The movement exposes just the bowed tops of her stockings once more. She leans her elbow against the table, speaking casually. "You wouldn't want to keep people of such importance waiting on my account, would you?"

Samuel raises his arms into his suit jacket and lets it drape down to his shoulders. In so doing, his undershirt raises to reveal a small area of skin above his low waistline. "Maybe I should. If I'm always there for them, I doubt they'll learn how much they need me when I'm gone."

Her eyes drop to his waistline, take in the sight, and meet his once more. "And one never want to leave acquaintances in need." Her eyes appear to grin, although the smile on her lips remains minute.

"I wouldn't dare leave a new acquaintance in need. That's just bad form." Offering his hand, he continues. "I'd like to think that there are one million hotels just like this one, but only one on the Earth could have two such impressive kindred in such close proximity."

She holds up a finger, and finishes off her drink. Taking the offered hand, she slides off the stool with one more flash of stockings and skin. Shortening the aforementioned proximity, she replies: "How unfortunate for all other hotel clientele. It's certainly a pleasing sensation to bask in."

Leaning in to claim a kiss on her hand, he asks, "Should I defer to Mr. Albertelli for permission to continue our conversation at a higher floor?"

"Did you miss the part where he is my servant?" The lack of venom in her tones suggests an unusual lack of offense.

"Where I come from, you make sure to ask every older gentleman around before you have an elevated conversation with a woman."

He laughs quietly and notes the fading sounds of jazz and the emerging noise of country twang. "I think that's our cue to leave."

She looks appalled at the change in music. "Yes, it seems that the mood is quickly turning for those who prefer drinking as a relief from petty sorrows. I much prefer indulging for social lubrication purposes." She leads the way to the exit, hips swaying and posture exuding a grace beyond her years.

Samuel follows, hand in hers, towards the destination. "Social lubrication. That, or to kill the smell on some of the less... washed of the hotel's clients."

She chuckles, quietly. They walk through the hotel foyer, passing Vincenzo, who's deep in conversation with the lovely woman at the front desk. The ghoul directs a thin-lipped smile at the pair, and speaking rapid Italian, Karina spouts off some simple instructions to him. He nods and returns his attention to the woman, who appears befuddled, though she retains her sunny smile.

Karina and her guest enter the elevator, and she hits the button for the top floor. "I hope I don't fulfill a cliche by residing in the penthouse suite."

"You're far enough from the molds of the typical to have some cliches. I won't hold it against you." As the elevator churns up the chains towards the top floor, Samuel takes the chance to lean into his first kiss on her lips. "I trust you won't hold an elevator kiss against me, while we're on the topic of cliches."

Her lips are soft and inviting, despite their coldness. "I may still hold it against you." She bites her bottom lip, gently eyes locking on his. "Unless you prove, otherwise."

Raising his lips and face away from hers, Samuel leans against the back of the elevator with his legs spread apart and hands in his pockets. His dress shirt drapes lightly against his skin, leaving no traces of doubt as to the curvature of his torso and hips. The young girl keeps her hands to herself, but brazenly rakes her gaze over his frame. She spares another slight smile for him when he notices her appraisal.

The elevator reaches it's destination, doors opening to a quiet and empty hallway. She steps into the hallway and turns to him. "This is my floor, if you still desire to advance our conversation further."

"Your floor? Quite an endless pocketbook, you must have." Uttering small words to himself under his breath, Samuel follows her. His arms stay, tamed, at his sides.

"Some things are worth extending ones resources for. Also, I grew weary of the noise complaints."

A bit farther down from the elevator, they stop at her door. She swipes the key card and they enter the room. It's furnished like a typical hotel room, with a few personal effects here and there.

"Noises?" He examines the room, pulling off his suit coat, letting it curtain over his shoulder. "You mentioned being quite busy."

She places her purse on a end table, next to a laptop and Ipod, hooked up to a Bose sound system."I enjoy my music at a disagreeable volume on occasion." She bends over as she speaks, unbuckling the straps on her shoes. "I've also been known to lose my temper in a rather clamorous manner. All work and no play brings out the worst in me." She looks up with a smirk.

Moving up behind her as she bends, he takes the moment to admire her frame and garb, placing lightly moving fingers on her back, tracing stitching. "You should play far more often. People like you and I deserve as much."

Stepping from her shoes, she replies. "I couldn't agree more." Straightening up, she slowly turns to face Samuel. "Is there anything I could get you? I'd hate to be a lackluster host."

His eyes seem to move of their own accord and demanding that he indulge in the sight of her. "I've probably drank quite enough for one evening, unless you're having more. Although, I could deal with seeing you turn about once more. Just, for reference."

"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind." She brings her face close to this, standing on her toes to do so. "I think I may spoil myself with another beverage." She brushes his lips with her own in a tease of a kiss, before about facing towards the dining area.

Looking mildly flustered, he takes off his own shoes for the first time all night. "How is it that such a high grade of woman finds herself both free from business and alone on a beautiful winter night like this?" He deposits his slingshot on the counter, tucked into the back of his pants previously. His jewel-braced firearm stays in his leather holster.

She pulls an ornate crystal decanter from a cabinet, and two glasses. She carefully pours as she speaks. "Perhaps the same luck that left me unoccupied with business, honored me with the company of an alluring and charismatic gentleman like yourself." She takes a sip of her own drink, whilst holding the second glass towards Samuel.

Taking the glass, he smells the liquor and takes some into his mouth. Samuel places a his left finger under the young girl's chin and strokes down to her neck, allowing his hands to grip firmly on her collar bone.

She inquires, "Is the taste to your liking?" But before he can answer, her mouth is once more upon his, her lips parting to share the flavor from her tongue.

His attempt to mumble a response is given up in favor of tasting her tongue. His lips to latch to hers while his hands hungrily grasp her sides. Karina's mouth lingers on his, as her own hands wander. She trails her fingertips down his chest, past his waistband, and clutches her hand firmly between his legs. Surprised and wonderfully aroused by the act, Samuel kisses her cheeks and neck between gasps. "You're quite forward, Miss Karina Rosselini."

"It's yet another of my extraordinary talents, although rarely as appreciated as it is now, Mr..." She strokes him through the fabric of his pants. "I'm at a disadvantage, not knowing your surname."

"I don't think I should tell you, yet." He threads his hands in her hair and smells her, again. "You might have to force it from me."

"If you think that would be an endeavor for me, you haven't been paying close enough attention." She brings her free hand to her chest, tracing her fingers along the pale skin exposed along her neckline. "I wonder what I'd need to do to persuade you."

Letting go of her and dropping gently and with control, into a seat, Samuel replies, "Seeing more of your divine form, and those bows on your thighs, could drive me to insanity. Insane men are often quite honest."

"Honest, if you can interpret the sense through the madness." She pulls her hair up and approaches his chair. Kneeling slightly, back facing his seat, she glances over her shoulder to ask: "Could you assist me with my zipper?"

With the piety of a monk, but none of the chastity, he lowers the young woman's zipper only a few inches.

"Grazie, signore." She rises, drawing the zipper further down the path of her spine without turning around. She slides the sleeves of her dress down her shoulders, bending forward slightly to draw the material over waist and hips. The dress falls to her ankles, and she steps from the circle of fabric and turns to face Samuel. The bowed stockings matching perfectly with her dainty satin undergarments. "Have I earned the privilege of your full name yet?"

Speaking immediately, Samuel states, "Machel." His fingers become rigid as he attempts to tame them, but his eyes are free to explore her subtle curves. His expression is one of satisfaction.

"Good to know you keep your word, Mr. Machel." She speaks his name like a purr. She walks toward his chair, dignified in her bareness. Nudging his knees apart with her own, she once more kneels in front of him. "Now, when do I get to see more of you?" she says, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

"Whenever Ms. Rosselini should choose that she wants to see it." Not at all shy, he begins to unbutton the very top two snaps of his shirt.

"Wonderful." she replies, small hands unbuckling his belt and the buttons of his pants. Peering up at him through the fringe of her eyelashes, she licks her lips and speaks in a low tone. "You never did tell me what business you'd be doing in DC. Something long term? I'd be disappointed if this was a one time thing." She tugs the zipper of his pants down, notch by notch.

"Talking business, already?" He watches in earnest as her magnificent eyelashes and lips glisten.

Pulling his pants down enough to expose him, she wraps her hand around his hardness. "I wasn't planning on talking." She runs her tongue along his length. Shuddering, he seems to struggle to maintain his composure, showing difficulty in keeping a smile from reaching his lips.

"Turnabout is fair play, Mr. Machel." She takes him into her mouth, tongue caressing his flesh and nails tracing along his inner thighs.

"Does not talking mean you'll stop, or that you'll try harder?" Stopping to gasp, he gives up on whatever thought his ecstatic and drunk brain had attempted to formulate.

Working him over for several moments, she revels in the taste of his flesh and the sound of his moans. She lifts her head, tossing her curls back. Full lips glistening, she meets his eyes and pouts in a mockery of unhappiness. "Are you not going to answer my inquires?" Her hand remains gripped around him, stroking rhythmically as she speaks.

Sitting in the chair, covered in her saliva on his most sacred part, he stares down and tries to analyse her. "What happens if I don't? Going to tie me up and whip me? Are you not going to let me taste you?"

She looks intrigued, and inwardly curses her lack of study time with cousin Serafina. "Hmm.." She touches a finger to her bottom lip. "I didn't even ponder that option." Karina crawls further up his body, until she's perched on top of him. Her knees on either side of him, she clenches her thighs around his own.

He leans up to kiss her, letting his hands out of their prison in his pockets. They go around her and begin flicking and tugging lightly on her brassiere. "Really? Too bad for me."

She savors the kiss and continues her lips movement down his jaw and throat. She grazes teeth and tongue along his flesh. "Of course, the possibilities are endless, should you be staying in the area."

He lets out a moan when she touches his neck, breaking out of his characteristic facade of neutrality.

"I'll be around for a while," he whispers.

"Good." She whispers into the crook of his neck, lips brushing the skin there. "Now, what was this talk of tasting me?"

"Quid pro quo, Ms. Rosselini. Just a way to return the favour. Or, if you'd prefer..." He lets his hands loosen and opens the clasps on her brassiere, but doesn't attempt to remove the undergarment.

She pulls her face from his, peering at him curiously as the straps slip slightly down her shoulders. "You do the work, but don't reap the reward?" Hooking her thumbs around the straps, she slides the bra off, exposing pale breasts and nipples a color reminiscent of the carnation he gave her earlier.

"That's what we call middle management." He laughs at his own joke, placing his hands over her breasts and letting his eyes drift down to her panties and stockings. Quietly, and with a certain bated sense of expectancy, he says, "I suppose you can keep on the stockings."

"Oh? So you approve of them?" She gently removes his hands from her breasts, and rises to stand in front of him. "What about the panties? What's your opinion on them?" Her thumbs curl under the waist band of the garment, pulling them down just a fraction.

"Your breasts are perfect, Ms. Rosselini, as are the panties. They both seem to serve you well."

She shares a pleased smile with the gentleman.

"And yet, you still remain clothed. A pity, really." She walks back over to the counter where their drinks reside, and props her foot on the side of the stool. Unbuckling the thigh holster, she places the holster and pistol on the counter and picks up her glass, taking a small sip.

He stands, erection protruding from his slacks, and joins her in drinking the smooth liqueur. "You should know, it's difficult to be pompous when in your... revealed company. Quite possible, but difficult."

"My apologies." She smirks, almost preening. Taking note of his un-removed clothing, she steps into his proximity. Looking down to admire the exposed flesh, she pushes her hands down his waist so that his pants fall to the ground. Once they hit his ankles, Samuel kicks them aside attempts to quickly drain his glass. Standing and gulping in only his dress shirt, he takes the time to peer towards her breasts. Being blatant, watching her chest move when she swallows. Karina basks in his attention and finishes her own drink. Placing the glass to the side, she braces her hands against the counter and lifts herself onto it. She leans forward enough to grasp Samuel's shirt and drag him towards her. Wrapping stocking covered legs about his waist, she undoes the last few buttons on his shirt and slides it off him. Enjoying the view, she unstraps his holster with dainty fingers, placing his weapon next to her own.

The young man places a hand between her legs, stroking Karina through her undergarments.

"Am I allowed to get rid of these?" Looking down to her soft and pale stomach, he once again notices the little bows that seem to force a fixation on his psyche.

She curls a hand along the back of his neck, pulling his face forward for a kiss. "If you feel the need." She removes her hands and leans back onto her elbows, legs spread before him.

He places his hands underneath her, lifting her by her buttocks for a moment, and pulls the underwear off of her soft frame. He basks in the glory of her womanhood, and merely gazes in appreciation. His places a single finger on it and rubs the slit slowly. Her toes curl at his sides, and she hitches in an unneeded breath. Perhaps misplacing her extensive vocabulary, she simply stare at Samuel, lips slightly parted. Samuel smiles, happy for the view and reaction from such a small amount of physical attention. Sliding Karina closer to the edge of the bar, he traces a finger over the her soft pubic mound. "Is there a particular preference you have? Somewhere you'd rather me not go?" He chuckles and lets his finger go an inch into her. "I don't want to hurt you too much."

A quiet moan escapes her. Distracted, she takes a moment to respond. "Preferences are for those much more conservative than I."

Letting that finger be replaced by two, slowly moving into her at their full length, he attempts to make sure she's lubricated well. While doing so, he allows his other hand to caress and fondle her inner thighs. Another moan, this time more audible. Her thighs quiver, tensing at his touch. Her small breasts heave as she gasps and her elbow slips out from under her. His fingers continue to pulse in her, feeling within her, making sure that she's not too tight for him. With the other hand Samuel lightly touches and rubs Karina's small clitoris. While she shivers and moans around his hands, he leans over to kiss her stomach, licking the soft skin. Her hips lift toward his touch, back arching slightly off the counter. "Are you so considerate to all your lovers, Samuel?" Her voice is rough with pleasure.

"Are you always so surprised when a lover cares for your needs?" After positing his own question, he lowers his mouth to kiss and lick at her clitoris while continuing to thrust fingers gently into her. After a moment of vigorous licking, he adds a third digit.

She makes an unintelligible sound in response. Her legs come to settle on his shoulders as her hand reaches down to rest upon the back of his head. "Perhaps it's the quality of my lovers that comes into question."

Delving farther into her, he continues to probe. His lips and tongue move as if prepared to consume, speeding up as fast as he is able to.

"Gesù Cristo..." she raises her head slightly, to watch him between her thighs. She stares for a few moments, transfixed. Her hand clutches harder on the back of his head as she speaks. "I must warn you, Mr. Machel. If you don't plan on fucking me, I very well may kill you." She speaks without jest, though not lacking for gratification. Unseen, Karina's two wraiths turn their attentions to the pair as much as they're willing to, prepared to comply with their mistress's wishes, should she command them.

He smiles, "I'd rather fuck you than test that." Samuel withdraws his fingers from her abruptly, hearing the satisfying sound of their absence. One arms grasps her by the small of her back and pulls her up while the other grabs her behind and picks her up from the bar. With her in his arms, wrapped around him, he enters her slowly. "Where would you like me to take you?"

"A wise decision." Her legs tighten around his waist as she presses her pelvis closer to his. She points behind him, towards the bed, and busies his mouth with her own. Samuel begins kissing her with a sense of sudden hurry, as if attempting to taste every drop of liquor on her tongue. He carries her over to the bed, dropping her down onto her back and lifting her legs into the air. The thrusting begins and Samuel attempts to keep his eyes on Karina's. She voices her pleasure, predominately in Italian phrases. Her nails scratch furrows into his flesh, bringing thin blood. Her small fangs lengthen at the smell, and she attempts to distract herself in his kiss.

He pulls back, trying to make full contact with her eyes. "Look at me, Ms. Karina." As he makes his request, he buries himself forcefully into her pelvis over and again. She emits a small sound of wanting when he pulls away, but seems unable to keep from fulfilling his request. She meets his eyes, as her pelvis meets his with each thrust. His eyes glaze over with dripping gold as he attempts to entrance her. His thrusts continue and his words melt into song and poetic phrasing just too quiet to hear. "Give in to me. Let me give you all the pleasures you deserve." The young girl keeps his gaze, the only sound being the air rushing through her dead lungs in short gasps. After the two link into the entrancement, Samuel's supernal nature manifests. He is majestic, exemplifying that which he was before only in nature he is now in hyperbole. As he powers into his thrusts, drilling with as much strength as he can, using his fingers to stimulate her her clitoris. Her fingers dig deeper into his shoulders, as she succumbs to her pleasure. The timbre of her shouts reiterating the fact of needing an entire hotel floor to herself.

Samuel keeps up the steady push, rubbing her clitoris as quickly as he is able to while maintaining gentleness. He allows her to break stare from him, ending the entrancement, so that he can bury his mouth into hers. Fangs still extended, she grazes them against his lip before pulling from the kiss. Bringing her lips to his ear, she says, not without good humor. "That's cheating.." With that, she buries her small fangs in his throat, clamping her jaws briefly before pulling away. She once more meets his gaze, allowing his blood to drip down her lip and over her chin. Moaning at her bite, and at the pleasure of being so deeply and fondly inside of her, Samuel places a hand within her curls. He pulls Karina to his shoulder and neck, placing his other hand on her hips and guiding the strokes. She moves with him, her hips moving with a talent beyond her years. She holds his gaze steadily, blue eyes burning with passion as she moans his name.

He kisses her once more, pressing himself inside of her again and again. "Ms. Rosselini," he moans, "I could fuck you until the sun comes up and turns me to ash."

She speaks between kisses. "That would be a waste of a valuable asset." Regardless of her casual statement, her satisfaction gained from his words are felt in the compression of her thighs and tension inside of her increasing. Hoping to hear her scream for him, he continues his pulsing, and places both hands onto that little button under her pubic mound. He teases it and rubs it between his fingers.

She keeps her pleased cries to just below a shout, electing to muffle her sounds by distributing several more brief, but deep bites on his neck and shoulders.

Moaning loudly with her, loving the sight of her breasts shaking lightly when he pushes into her. "Ms. Rosselini, would you like me to take you from behind?"

Her head falls back, curls brushing the small of her back as she gasps once more. "Such a gentleman, Mr. Machel. You make have me whichever way you desire." Pulling the two to the edge of the bed, he removes himself from her for only as much time as it takes to place the young woman on her knees facing away from him. Standing next to the bed, he uses the bed's height to make the position possible. He places himself back inside, with both hands on her small hips. Karina's hair trails down the smooth arch of her back. The small, but shapely buttocks pressing into the tops of his thighs. With the increased vigor of his thrusts, she grips the bedspread between her fingers, pulling it towards her face to muffle her cries. Samuel admires the pale flesh that presses up to him, and lets his fingers dig into her hip bones. Once again, he finds his eyes viewing her breasts reacting to the shaking from their vigorous copulating. He groans loudly in pleasure, then presses a single finger against the entrance to her backside. He merely exerts pressure, using it to amplify his strokes. The bedspread no longer muffles her cries, and once again his name escapes her lips. She shudders, and braces herself firmly against him. Hearing the pleasant cries from the young kindred, he allows himself to release into her. It accompanies moans and the squeezing of her hips. Karina's knees shake under her, and his hands on her hips seem to be the only thing keeping her from collapsing onto the bed. Samuel gently pulls himself from her, marveling in the way the blood pools from out of her and onto the bed.

With his exit from her body, Karina's knees give way, and she lays flat on the bed. After a moment, Karina rolls onto her back, exposed and staring up at Samuel. One hand drapes across her breast. "Intellectual, attractive and an exquisite lover? How did fates collide to bring two individuals with such similarities into juxtaposition?"

He gets up onto the bed, on all fours, and holds himself over Karina. "All it took was a psychotic ghoul and a few sips from brown bottles."

"Perhaps I owe Mr. Brown a word of thanks."

Samuel kisses her and cups her cheek in his hand. "I'd much rather blow his brains out onto the walls."

"Such visceral imagery. Are you trying to arouse me, again?" She hikes her leg up to his hip.

"You're exactly like I'd heard your clan would be." After a pause for another kiss, he adds, "But far more palatable and divine."

"Again, you bring no doubt of your ability to always be correct." She raises her arms above her head, stretching luxuriously underneath him. "I can't help but bask in the ambiance of such a amicable night."

Letting his eyes once again take in the sight of her pale breasts, he lets a hand loose to cup them while she stretches. "I'm almost certain that I was supposed to announce myself to the barony tonight."

"You were indisposed, they'll understand." She smirks. "I'm sure I had something frivolous to do as well. Likely it involved corpses or strippers or blackmail." She looks untroubled.

"Ah, you Giovanni and your necrophilia." He leans in to kiss her neck and nibbles lightly. "Doesn't that ever get depressing? Being all immortal, and spending so much time around the eternally dead."

"I never said I was fucking the corpses." She turns her head to the side, uttering a pleased sound at his touch. "It's not depressing when you exert your domination over the dead."

"But I mean, we've just lived beautifully. We've just proven that we're not undead, we're more alive and will be more alive than any living man or woman. Being around the dead doesn't make you feel damned?"

"Never. It reminds me of my power. It seems more likely that the dead would feel damned being around me."

Whispering into her ear, "It's a pleasant thing, then, that I'm not dead."

"Indeed, it is." she murmurs back, pressing her lips to his neck.

He lays on his back next to her after falling on his side. "What are you even doing with this whole floor to yourself?"

She leans up to face him, propping herself on an elbow. "I told you, I enjoy my privacy. This is, after all, one of the finest hotels in the area."

"I appreciate a woman that enjoys opulence."

"So you've proven." She reaches behind her and picks a cell phone off of the end table. Perusing it for a moment, she places it back down, seeming satisfied. Leaning against the head board, she crosses her still stocking covered legs in front of her. "I hope I'm not making any enemies, preventing you from your affairs."

While Karina peruses her cell phone, Samuel places a hand between her legs to rest on her pubic mound, letting a finger once again dangle across her slit. "I have a huge staff of infinitely loyal ghouls that should be able to make it up to them. It's good having people."

"I can imagine that's quite a vital asset." Her eyes wander down his body, and she raises an eyebrow. "Loyalty is imperative."

"Blood bonds are infinitely effective 9 out of 10 times. I'm sure you know all about that, though."

"Mmm, yes." She brings her eyes back to his face. "I know of many ways to retain loyalty from those who serve me."

He moves his fingers once again towards the inside of her. "Care to tell me about them?"

"Oh.." her words catch in her throat for a moment. "..it wouldn't be interesting to you. Threats, torture and manipulation. That old method."

"Ah, I see. I much prefer gifts and pleasures of the flesh. Keep your friends happy, you know?" Samuel starts to insert fingers again as they speak. "Some friends can be very useful if kept happy and satisfied."

"Is that why you're striving to keep me satisfied?"

"No, I'm doing that because it's heaven to be in bed with such a perfect and confident young woman. Especially one with breasts and skin like those that adorn your frame."

She grabs his wrist, removing his hand from between her legs. Bringing it to her face, she makes sure to have his attention as she leisurely licks his fingers clean. Climbing over him, she settles on top of his prone form, resting her hands on his chest. "So, tell me more about Samuel."

"I'm an Aries."

"And, I'm a child prodigy. Now that we're finished stating the obvious..." A small smile, as she casually moves her hips against his.

"I don't believe you're a child, no matter what your height tells you." He smiles back, then kisses her lightly.

"As he continues to avoid my inquires ." she states to herself. "I'm starting to think you prefer me using my powers of persuasion, rather than having to answer questions about yourself."

"If you're referring to that," as he leans up to look over her shoulder to her shapely behind, "You may be correct."

She trails her nails over his chest, and along his throat, increasing their pressure in the slightest. "And if I resorted to other means of persuasion?"

"I might pout. What would you care to know about Samuel?"

She runs her thumb along his bottom lip, before replacing it with her own lips. "You spoke of your business, but what is it that you do? You don't bear the qualities of one typically involved in human resources."

"I deal less in resources used by humanity, but in humans as resources."

"Hmm. Illegal slave trade? Or perhaps a flesh peddler?" She glances over at the jewel encrusted weapon on the counter. "I suppose you have certain characteristics that would befit a pimp."

"I don't normally like that term, but it sounds much better from lips like yours. I should ask, though. What do you think I do?"

"Your mention of humans as resources leads to suppose it's one of the aforementioned options." She gyrates her hips rhythmically on his. Her head falls back as she relishes the sensation. When she speaks again, her voice is husky. "Your taste for indulgence hints to the business of flesh and pleasure."

"Very honest clues. And, if you didn't know any better, what sect would you think I held myself to?"

"Hopefully the more intelligent and sophisticated of the choices. The sect I myself choose loyalty to."

"So, that of yourself? Not a bad decision."

"More or less." she smirks.

"Respectable." He grinds his pelvis against her. "Tell me more about Ms. Karina Rosselini."

"Should I? I don't believe you've answered my own questions." She squeezes his hips between her thighs.

Holding her, and rolling the two over with his overtly superior strength, he ends kneeling above her. "I think you should. I might do horrible things to you."

"It would only be fair, with what I was pondering to do to you. Although I must warn you, my patience only lasts so long."

He holds her sides, feeling the slender and soft belly that seems to distract him from his needs. Pulling himself slightly off of her, he turns her on to her stomach and kneels over her body. "You should, though. There's lots of things I want to know."

"I believe in fair trade." Comfortable, regardless of her position, she sways her hips slightly, drawing his attention to her buttocks.

Already having his attention on it, he places a firm hand on her cheeks, gripping. "What would you ask me, that you would answer yourself?" While he speaks, he positions his manhood in between her pale orbs.

She brushes her hair over her shoulder, to stare back at him. "You haven't been asked anything that I wouldn't answer."

"Okay," He replies while placing some saliva on his member, "Go ahead and ask something specific."

"What business do you have in DC?"

"I sell high end, supernaturally augmented strippers and prostitutes to rich politicians and business folks." He positions himself outside of the edge of her ass while kissing her back. "What do you do in Bartertown?"

"I piss people off." For the first time that night, the young girl actually chuckles. It's short lived, and as if to distract him from the sound, she presses back against his body. "I represent my family, both the people and the assets."

"Tell me more about the people you piss off." He begins to enter her, slowly, ensuring that he not hurt her.

She gasps, whether it's in pleasure or pain is not apparent. "I deal with insults to myself or my family in a way that's been deemed overly severe." Another intake of breath."All things considered, I've been almost charitable."

He pulls up her hips, and reaches underneath to caress her womanhood. "What do you do to them?"

She moans quietly, unable to formulate an answer for a moment or two. "I haven't done anything. That's the benefit of loyal servants."

Beginning to gently pulse inside of her, moving forward and then back, he moans to himself. Collecting his thoughts, he asks, "What would you do to someone that hurt you?"

Her back arches, bringing his movement deeper. "In the rare occurrence of that happening..." she gasps again, "..against my will, that is.." she moans. "The perpetrator would find themselves under siege by several murderous wraiths."

Pausing from his stream of questioning, he pulls out his entire length and whispers a question in her ear, "Is this too much?"

She shivers slightly. "If it was, I believe you'd currently be fighting off the aforementioned wraiths."

He smiles at the threat, ever at the edge. "Any other questions?" He slides farther into her, now, confident in her ability to deal with the stimulation

She responds with a pleased cry, gripping a hand on his. "Do you plan to take over an existing business, or open your own?" Her words are punctuated with small gasps.

"Depends on which is cheaper." He gives vigorous thrusts to response, feeling a new found need to ingratiate himself with the young woman.

"Any companies you have your eye on?" She writhes underneath him. "When your eyes aren't otherwise occupied."

Stroking her between her legs while pumping, he replies, "None, yet. Maybe you can suggest one- Ah!" He sighs in revelry and ecstasy, "Once were done."

"Perhaps.." her words trail off into a moan. "It would have to be once we're done. As of now.." she clutches the mattress "..my only suggestion is that you continue what you're doing." He does continue, and does so for an extended period of time until he withdraws from the moaning young woman to collapse next to her in a heap.

Karina takes a few moments to catch her breath, before turning onto her back. Her hair fans out over the pillow and she stares up towards the ceiling. "Tonight really has exceeded my expectations. Here I thought my only company would be Vincenzo." Samuel looks up: half inquisitive and half accusatory. She half turns, placing a hand on his chest. "I meant that as a compliment."

"Do I perform quite a bit better than he does?"

Her expression falls into one of deep distaste, and she removes her hand. "That's.." she trails off, at a loss for words. The wraiths in the room shift, unsettled and waiting for command.

He laughs, and quickly apologizes. "That might have been too much, yeah." He turns on his side to face her and takes her hand to kiss it. "I like to think that this is the best way I could have spent this night." he pauses. "And you, as well. I mean, who the hell else could have entertained you this much?"

She takes an extended moment to compose herself, un-clenching her jaw at his apology. "You have certainly proved your worth in that manner." Her voice still sounds slightly brittle.

"Know of any strip clubs in need of new management?"

"Not yet." she replies, sounding slightly amused. "I'd keep an eye out, but it's rare that I frequent strip clubs, myself."

"Too public, or too sleazy? Usually, I'm offended when people infer the latter, but I guess there's just no decent establishments in this area."

"It's more the proprietor's choice in staff." She leans up slightly, combing her fingers through her curls. "Have you acquired any business contacts, yet? Or are those the people I've kept you from, tonight?"

"I haven't really started looking. I enjoy jumping into the ocean and seeing if I float." Samuel uses a finger to lightly trace her soft midsection and chest.

"Make sure you keep a pair of water wings on hand. It would be a shame if you were to drown."

"What are 'water wings?' I can't swim, anyway."

"Inflatable arm bands, like a flotation device?" She fails to hide her amusement.

"What? Fuck you! I just never had a chance to learn." He laughs, ever the good sport. She smiles slightly, not laughing, but enjoying his amusement. "Where I grew up, you didn't go in the water. If you did, you got some parasite or diseaseBut, metaphor aside, I don't think it'll take to long to push aside the competition and get the block on lock."

"Grazie a Dio per acqua filitration." She rests her hand on his. "I don't think you'll have an issue. Just charm your way through the contention."

"That's the plan. Know anyone in the gang business? They're usually good partners."

"Unfortunately, no. Not my area of expertise." A pause."Few things fall into that category."

"I'm sure that few do." He lays back, hands behind his head on the bloodstained bed. "By the way, I should thank you for answering all of my asinine questions."

"Yes, you should thank me." she replies in good humor. "Honestly, your questions are far less asinine than the usual. It's refreshing."

"What do people usually ask? Is it something about fornicating with dead cousins, and blowing your nose with one hundred dollar bills?"

"Perhaps that is what's asked of my extended family. Questions directed towards me are far more explicit."

"More explicit than that?" He snorts lightly at the idea. "That's just not right to say to a lady."

"Few see you as a lady, when you look like a little girl. I suppose one views a child kindred as an 'all bets are off' sort of deal."

"That's true in D.C., but that's because the Cam is just an advanced fascist bureaucracy created to perpetuate the manipulation of young kindred. Thought it would be different down in the 'new-new world.' "

"Some things never change." She states this not without bitterness.

"Give it a few decades. Things change pretty quickly if you force them to by gunpoint." He laughs to himself, once again glorifying her pale form guarded only by stockings with perfect black bows.

She notes his attention, and crosses her legs, jiggling her foot in his direction to perpetuate his fixation. "Even better when you can utilize other manners of intimidation."

"Raising zombies from beyond the grave?" He seems honestly inquisitive.

A small wrinkle appears between her eyebrows. "That's one of my objectives."

His head falls back onto his hands. "That's kind of interesting. It's like recycling, I guess."

"Waste not, want not." The wrinkle smooths after a moment.

Samuel relaxes against the bed, indulging in the silence of the winter night.

Karina combs her eyes over his body, before resting her chin in her hand. "Have you secured a haven in the area for your stay?"

"Not yet. I'm thinking of just commuting from DC. It's not a bad drive on a bike."

"You have a motorcycle?" she looks intrigued. "I've never ridden one."

"Yeah, it's pretty nice for traffic jams. That and for trying not to get shot."

"Is that a problem you often face? Getting shot at, that is."

"Being one of the few anarchists in a Camarilla city, combined with being a successful proprietor, I get shot at quite a bit." In a very deep and humored voice, he continues. "Don't like to see a brotha get his paper," switching back to his actual voice, "As some of my friends have stated."

She makes a face at his brief change in tone, but doesn't comment. "The bullets don't seem to fly quite as freely around this area. Unless I'm firing, of course."

"I'm sure you're quite trigger happy with your pea-shooter. Has it seen much attention?"

"Not as much as I'd enjoy. I have a firm grasp on my own temper. My biggest issue was due to a case of...mistaken intentions."

"Is there a story to that?"

She waves her hand a bit, as though it's immaterial. "I don't appreciate being groped outside of mutually beneficial circumstances."

He almost immediately places a hand over her right breast and squeezes lightly. "I have similar preferences."

She holds her shoulders back, pressing her flesh further into his grasp. "I'm delighted to learn of such a fact." The young girl seems to revel in her nudity more than those decades older.

"I also hold those that patron my establishment to such rules, and use similar lead-based intimidation methods to guarantee cooperation." He speaks while attempting to memorize her form.

"Seems wise. I imagine those who frequent such businesses with regularity may grow quite rowdy with their lust."

"Which is a symptom of a repressive social system that attacks free expression and sexuality." He coughs. "Sorry, that comes out occasionally."

"Preach it, brotha." She almost appears shocked at her own attempt at jest. Placing a hand melodramatically over her heart, she comments "That physically hurt."

He legitimately rolls in laughter on the bed. "That is something I didn't expect to come from your lips."

She leans her head back against the headboard. "I even surprised myself with that one." Drawing closer to him, pressing her fingers somewhat roughly into his jaw, just above the throat. "I really may kill you, should you let the rumor spread that I actually have a sense of humor." This is spoken in the same matter-of-fact tone as her earlier threat.

"Then have me service you for eternity? Eh, it's better than Heaven." He pulls her hand away and kisses it.

"Some may contest that statement." She leans against the headboard once more, eyes lighting on the incorporeal form of her mother, with another smile on her lips, this one with a tinge of cruelty.

He doesn't notice her look, once again distracted by a smooth pale stomach and exposed womanhood. "I tend to think I'll keep this night to myself."

She traces her fingers down her own body, shivering slightly at her own touch. "Feeling avaricious, Samuel?"

"At every moment, but that's just my nature." He watches her, enjoying her masturbatory movements. "I think I might take a token to make sure this moment lasts in my memory."

Her fingertips trail down over her stomach, passing her pubic mound as she rests her hand between her legs. "A token?"

Stopping to view the practice for a moment, he merely extends a hand to her legs, pulling it aside to expose her further. "I was thinking of taking a picture of your stocking. Or perhaps your fingertips. One day, you might allow me to take you home as a trophy for a night.

I think I might have a cage to keep you in."

"A cage, Samuel?" She strokes a finger gently along her exposed flesh. Glancing at him, assured that she has his attention, she arches her pelvis up slightly, pushing her finger deep inside herself. She places the side of her other hand in between her teeth, biting down lightly as she masturbates herself.

"Yes..." He looks on in longing at her, feeling the lust he so recently abated returning. A hunter so ravenous that few exercises could satiate it. "And some straps and boards. Things to place you on so that you can't run away for a while. I've been looking for a young woman to place in them."

Her hand continues it's movement for several moments, before she pulls both the hand between her legs and the one between her teeth away. A small amount of blood leaks from dainty puncture wounds in her flesh. She rolls onto her side, and grips Samuel with the bloody hand, stroking him as she whispers in his ear. "If you think you harness the capacity to contain me, whether in a cage or otherwise..." she nips at his ear. "..you're out of your fucking mind."

Melting at her sudden assertiveness, he lets out a quiet sound of pleasure. "Then perhaps you shouldn't be the one restrained. Although, I think you would look ravishing with your legs spread in ropes."

She continues stroking, her blood serving to ease her hands movement. "If I did, it would only be because there is a gratuitous lack of situations where I don't look ravishing." Her voice is haughty and proud. "As for you.." she squeezes him gently. "..mmm. I have a cousin that may teach me some useful methods to practice on you."

He moans and clasps a hand onto her shoulder, leaning into her touch.

"Methods?"

"Yes." she still speaks with her lips to his ear. "She specializes in torture. I feel as if I could prosper in some lessons. Don't you?"

Finally finding the side of her he had goaded on, he resigned to her hands and whispering lips. "Yes, Ms. Rosselini."

Voice purring in his ear, she replies "Lo amo uomo che sa quando presentare."

"Solo per la donna giusta," he contends, with a thick american accent to his Italian.

"You speak Italian?" Her hand still caresses him, varying pressure and speed with an almost professional talent. "Molto bene."

"My gang prides themselves on multiculturalism." He gasps in between words.

"Are the rest of your gang as intellectual as you?" She presses her mouth to his neck, masking the smile his moans brings to her lips.

"Not /nearly/ as much as I am." He convulses his pelvis farther into her grip.

"That doesn't surprise me, at all." She watches his reaction, pleased. "You're such a reactive gentleman." She emphasizes her words with a tightening of her fingers. He gasps, again. Her fingers inspire his spine to dance and his manhood to spike in growth. She continues manipulating him with her hands. "I feel as if this will be a very beneficial alliance, between you and I." She latches her mouth onto his, kissing him with fervor.

He continues kissing her, breaking away only to say, "Alliance?"

"Companionship?", she grazes her teeth along his bottom lip. "Friendship, even?" The word sounds foreign coming from her lips.

"Innamorata?"

"That's a far more sumptuous term."

He ignores her and kisses at her chin and lips.

She seems distracted by her own actions, watching his blood sodden flesh glide against her hand. After a moment, she stills her movement and glances into his eyes. "I'm sorry, you seem to have enticed quite an insatiability in me."

Disrupted by her sudden ceasing of movement, he strains. "I'm happy to provide it, Ms. Rosselini."

She notes his tension, but keeps her hand slack around him. "So I've noticed. Is there something you needed, Samuel?"

"Needed?" He struggles slightly against her hand, attempting to grant himself some gratification.

"I enjoy when a man is confident enough to voice his needs." She stroke him with just the tips of her fingers.

"I need many things, Ms. Rosselini." He throbs under her touch.

"Such as?" Her teasing continues.

"Money, power, a dominating woman, a new bike." Samuel moans as he continues to thrust.

"I guarantee access to at least one of those." She tightens her grasp once more, moving with earnest intent. He gasps in revelry, moving his legs up so that he can thrust along with her grip.

She moves with him, whispering, "Abbandonatevi a mi, Samuel."

"Lo sono tuo , anche se solo per stasera."

"You're damned right." she purrs.

He grips at her shoulders, enjoying the grasp of her fingers and the smell of her hair.

"I trust you'll keep in contact after tonight?" She holds his gaze as she strokes him.

"I think I would be an idiot not to." He moans, again, and places his hands upon her hips.

"Which you've already proven that you're far from idiocy. Otherwise, I wouldn't be lying exposed before you, with my hand around your cock." She accentuates her statement by pressing her teeth to the flesh of his shoulder.

"Thank you for the compliment, Ms. Rosselini," he replies while once again writhing on the bed, letting his feet dangle into the pool of Vitae.

She kisses him, her intensity seeming to suggest intent to memorize the inside of his mouth with her own. Pulling away, she slows her hand's movement, glancing at the bed. "Hmm. We've made quite a mess."

"Mostly me, I think." He smiles and relaxes into the mattress.

"That's true." she slows her stroke to a stop, resting her hand on his stomach. "I should make you clean it up."

He balks at the notion of her stopping, but doesn't mention it out loud. "How so, Ms. Rosselini?"

"Maybe in the most obvious way." She lifts herself up to perch on top of him once more, stretching with her arms above her head. Bringing her arms back down, she places her blood stained fingers across his lips.

"Yes, Ms. Rosselini," he replies and begins licking her fingers gently. He then places them in his mouth and sucks them.

She's clearly aroused by this. Her hips move of their own accord, as she rubs her most sensitive area against his pelvis. "I believe we could keep this up for quite some time, should nothing interrupt us."

(TO BE CONTINUED ONE DAY)


	7. Chapter 7

February of 2015

Entering the hotel room quietly, the first thing Vincenzo notices is the metallic tang of blood in the air. Despite the text message he received from his young mistress not twenty minutes ago, he still feels a pang of unease. He watched her gentleman caller leave the hotel, as Karina requested, but it isn't until he hears the hiss of the shower that Vincenzo is reassured of the young girl's well being. Entering the room further, he notes the blood sodden sheets and bedspread. His expression remains uncharacteristically stoic, as he retrieves a trash bag from the kitchen area and begins to ball up the ruined sheets.

A few seconds later, a man appears in the room. Distaste is clear on his face. "You get stuck with clean up duty?"

The ghoul turns, slightly startled, hand twitching to the inside of his jacket. He relaxed his posture once recognizing Karina's newest wraith. "Good evening, Lieutenant Mann. Has Miss Karina given you your orders for the night?" The ghoul's voice remains friendly, but there's no mistaking the authority in his tone.

"No, sir. Was just wondering why a little girl has an old man cleaning up after her sexual exploits. Doesn't seem appropriate."

Vincenzo shoves the bedspread into the trash bag, and faces the grim faced wraith. "Inappropriate is commenting on the personal interests of those that command you."

Lt. Mann appears nonplussed. "I wasn't told that I answer to you. Just her." Vincenzo frowns, theatrically. "It seems you weren't listening clearly. Marietta, dear woman, would you give our Lieutenant a reminder of his servitude and respect for his superiors?" The woman manifests, an embodiment of the beauty her daughter would possess, if not for her halted maturing.

"Yes, Vincenzo." Her voice sounds peculiar, unused. Marietta wraps a deceptively dainty hand around the Lieutenant's throat, lifting him off the floor with ease. Vincenzo carries the trash bag to the door, ignoring the pained shout from the male wraith. When he turns back around, both wraiths have presumably faded back into the Shadowlands.

Vincenzo tidies up the room, hanging the hastily discarded clothing in the room's closet, rinsing the two glasses of residual liquor. He retrieves the holster and small pistol from the kitchen counter, placing it on the nightstand for easy access. A new addition rests upon the stand, already. A petite pink carnation bud lays propped against the lamp. The old man smiles at this small enhancement to the otherwise depersonalized room. Walking back into the kitchen area, he grabs a clean shot glass from the cabinet, half fills it with water and places it on the nightstand, the small carnation leaning askew in the glass. Aware of the quiet, he steps away, knowing Karina wouldn't want this quirk to be noticed. He takes a seat in one of the rich leather chairs and opens his newspaper just a hairsbreadth before the young girl exits the bathroom. Wrapped in a wooly hotel robe, wet curls spread about her shoulders, Karina looks the part of the conventional young girl. She acknowledges the tidied room and stripped bed, and looks to Vincenzo in silent appreciation. Perching on the side of the mattress, she pulls a comb from the robes pocket and begins grooming herself. "Did you collect that engaging receptionist's phone number?" The ghoul smiles, turning a page of his newspaper and displaying a name and number written in elegant script to Karina. She shakes her head in mock disapproval. "Vincenzo Albertelli, ever the ladies man."

His smile increases. "Feeling congenial, Miss Karina? Perhaps I should of conveyed my gratitude to Mr. Machel."

It's a sign of the young girl's elevated disposition that she doesn't snap or grouse at Vincenzo for this statement. "You'll need to ask your new acquisition for a clean set of sheets." Karina opens her laptop with a smirk at the ghoul's chuckle.

"What else do you have on your itinerary, tonight?"

The young girl searches through her notes, tapping a finger on her lips, thoughtfully. She pauses, grabbing her phone and fires several text messages to Renaldo. Setting the phone back down, she meets Vincenzo's curious gaze. "Things have worked out exceeding well, so far. Even with the setback of Khaos and Bolderick making a run for it." She looks disappointed for a moment. "Unfortunate that they took the coward's route. I can imagine Khaos would wish revenge, should he discover how I mislead him." The young girl's disappointment turns to pride as she recalls how easily Khaos gave himself up. "Regardless, if it wasn't for his foolishness, perhaps we wouldn't have received the information from Khalid. Now, we're that much closer to exterminating the loathsome Cappadocian bitch. I look forward to feeding her to the forger, she'll make a lovely bauble for my necklace." Her blue eyes briefly flash with avarice and inhumanity.

"Have you spoken with the rest of the family about the upcoming siege?"

Karina nods. "We're well prepared. However, I need to bring Bernito up to speed. This will, perhaps, be the good news that improves his recent temper."

"And perhaps a chance to gloat of the accomplishments of a Dopio Sangui?" Vincenzo remarks, knowingly.

The young girl doesn't respond, instead her attention seems to fall on the carnation resting in it's glass. A twitch of a raised eyebrow is the only clue to her acknowledgement of addition. "I do wish to summon Owen, but the nature of that conversation is not one of priority." Karina seems irked for a moment, before slipping back into her placid demeanor. "It may be time to contact Mickey, again," she makes a face. "to discuss retribution for that filthy Gangrel. I think monetary compensation and perhaps a few nights in cousin Serafina's dungeon may suffice." Vincenzo nods, jotting down a few notes of his own in the margin of his newspaper. "And last of my priorities," her eyes dart to the carnation, once more, continuing in an exasperated tone. "..second to last. Deal with Castellano. Renaldo can be the one to actually talk to che cazzone. Although, I may have a chat with Eve, see why she's being a Ventrue's pet Necromancer."

Karina pulls the robe tighter around her. "So much for a night off." She picks up her phone and begins to dial a number when Vincenzo interrupts.

"Didn't you mention wanting to acquire a new wraith? Perhaps that would suffice as just the right amount of leisure and business to bring your evening to a wholly enjoyable conclusion."

Karina turns to her ghoul, an eager look upon her face. "Of course! Such things are crucial with the upcoming confrontation." She once again reviews her laptop, this time perusing a collection of news articles. Looking pleased at the results, she rises from the bed, striding over to the old man and placing a kiss on his weathered cheek. "You are irreplaceable, Vincenzo."

He smiles, patting the girl on her arm before she walks into the bedroom. "I'm well aware, Miss."

An hour later, a Mercedes far too grand for it's surroundings pulls in front of an abandoned building in an impoverished part of the city. Shreds of police tape still flutter in the skeletal remains of a flowerbed. Karina places an item into her jacket and turns to Vincenzo. "Wait here. One way or another, this shouldn't take long." The ghoul's expression shows disapproval, but he nods, assured that that young girl is capable of defending herself. Karina exits the car, wind whipping her hair around her face as she makes her way to the porch. The street is empty, and she doesn't bother to glance around as she picks the flimsy lock on the front door. The inside is derelict, though the expected signs of squatters and vandalism are strangely absent. She walks down the hallway, carpet puffing small clouds of dust with every step. The door to the furthest bedroom is practically shattered, and this is where Karina enters. The filthy carpet still shows dark stains, and the holes in the plaster hint to someones cataclysmic demise. She speaks a name, her voice cutting through the silence of the house. A dark form materializes, and she internally remarks on it's haste. She barely spares a glance to the shadows that churn in the corners, reaching tenebrous arms to graze against her skin. The being itself seems made of the same living gloom, hulking menacingly in front of the young girl. "Ivan." The darkness seems to convulse, but there is only silence from the humanoid form. Karina reaches into the pocket of her coat, removing and displaying a worn pocketknife upon her palm. The form ahead of her seems to balk, before converting into a male figure.

Blond and muscular, the wraith's deranged gaze lingers on the knife. "...that's mine." His voice is deep rumble. Despite the nonthreatening appearance of the young girl, he cowers slightly.

Karina's lips curl into a cruel smirk. "It was yours, just as your life once was." She gestures to the bullet holes in the wall behind her. "How unfortunate for you, that you were witless enough to get caught. What was your toll up to? A little over a dozen?"

The wraith exhibits a horrifying grin. "Nineteen, actually. They never did find all the bodies."

Karina's expression remains unimpressed. "Alas, here you are. Your body is little less than dust, and you satisfy yourself by...haunting your own crime scene? Cliche, Ivan. Very cliche." The wraith lip lifts in a snarl, as the shadows reach for Karina, once more. Her voice intones in a chant, and with a small gesture the wraith falls to his knees, shrieking in pain. She stoops down in front of his gasping form. "I've killed legions compared to you. Your choices are simple. Serve me, defend me as your master, and retain a facsimile of your former glory. Or..." She places the pocketknife back into her coat, retrieving in it's stead a heavy coin whose moans can be hear over the wraiths.

His eyes light on the coin with a vague sense of understanding, and a stronger sense of fear. "I'm about as much of a fool, as you are a child. My services are yours, little woman."

Karina rises, waiting for the wraith to do the same. "Then we have an accord, Ivan." His brow furrows, and he holds out a hesitant hand for her to shake. The girl ignores this action and sniffs haughtily, rolling her eyes before exiting the room.

Sliding into the passenger seat of the Mercedes, Karina spares a pleased glance to Vincenzo as he starts the car."Everything went according to plan, I take it?"

She removes a newspaper from the center console , skimming it with a bare interest. "...Ivan Moody, know as The Savage for his bare handed murder of a dozen people, was taken down in a blaze of gunfire by SWAT..." Glancing over the black and white crime scene photos, she smirks. Folding the newspaper, she comments, "The Savage. Here's hoping he adheres to his former moniker."


	8. Chapter 8

**August of 1929. Sicily, Italy.**

"She was the prettiest little girl I'd ever seen. You could tell Bene' and Mari' were just about split with pride, parading that baby around. She got the good genes between both of em, y'see. After awhile, it was just the mister bringing Karina out. Any soul on the street could see he worshiped the ground she toddled on. It's when the little girl started growin' into a little woman, s'when we stopped seeing her around. It wasn't until the winter of '24 that anyone saw her, even then it was only in the late hours of the evening. Never with her papa or her mama, always with the old guy. The Rosselini's live-in help, I s'pose. We'd see Karina and the old fellow now and again. I tell ya, I ain't never seen that little woman smile since she was a bambina. I'll tell ya one more, I ain't seen her age a damn year, neither."

Dust motes swirl in the air as the pages of an old tome are turned with an almost obscene momentum. Karina pores over the yellowed paper, aware of the obvious signs of the book's disuse. A mere five years into her immortality, she retains the knowledge of one well past her age, if not the physical presence of the same. She learns, despite her father's inadvertence toward anything but her duty as her mother's replacement. Vincenzo, a caretaker to the living child, acts as the mentor her father should be. It's due to Vincenzo's guidance that Karina heeds to the rules and restrictions of the Kindred. It is he that praises her aptitude for necromancy, notably when her talent surpasses her Sire's. It is he that she regards with relief and affection, when interrupted at her studies.

"Ever the diligent student, Miss Karina." he says, smiling down at the girl. Her face reflects obvious youth, if not for the hardened, impassive expression she often wears.

"As if I have a choice to be otherwise."

Vincenzo doesn't comment on her bitter tone, instead inquiring, "Have you fed for the evening?" She nods, nose wrinkling in a moue of distaste. He reminds the young girl, "It will become less bothersome as the years pass."

Sensing the hint of pity in the old man's voice, Karina turns back to her book, jaw clenched in irritation. "I'm not bothered by it, and would appreciate if you kept your inconsequential commiseration to yourself." She stares down at the page, eyes still. It's only when she hears the door creak open and the start of Vincenzo's retreating footsteps, that she calls his name. Turning back into the room, he replies, "Yes, miss?" Fixing him with her dark blue stare, Karina's expression thaws in the slightest. "I apologize for my insolence, Vincenzo." She unconsciously spins her mother's wedding ring around her finger. "My disposition has been less than amiable, as of late."

He nods, eyes kind. "Justifiably so, Miss Karina." He glances at his pocket watch. "Sunrise is in little over an hour. I'll leave you to finish your reading." He exits the room with another inclination of his head.

Dawn approaches, and Karina enters her father's room only long enough to kiss him good night and decline his request for her company in slumber. "I love you, Papa." she speaks in parting, and rushes to her own darkened room before he can notice the revulsion she fails to keep from her words. Once in the security of her chamber, the young girl climbs into her bed, eyes wide. Her hand searches under the mattress, until it closes on the hilt of a heavy blade. She draws it to her chest, fighting the imminent fatigue that threatens to draw her eyelids shut for the day. Lids grow heavier as the morning commences. Summoning forth the animosity she feels towards the man that stole her life and innocence, she rouses herself from the bed and directs her feet towards her father's bedroom once more.

The door seems to weigh a hundred pounds as she pushes it open, the blade in her hand at least a thousand. Karina enters the room on sluggish feet. Benedict lays upon his bed, almost dwarfed by the desolate expanse of the overlarge mattress. The young girl stares down at her father, her sire...her lover. The hands that have groped and grasped where no father should handle his daughter. The mouth that clamped teeth into her veins, consuming the lifeblood from the fruit of his loins. Her small hand tightens on the hilt as she brings it to rest against his throat. She considers the decades ahead. Decades of being trapped in this house. Consumed with her eternal resentment. Forced to play the part of both the doting daughter and the trophy wife. Her eyes, an impeccable match to his own, narrow in loathing. I was just a child. Echoing her thoughts, she whispers aloud, "I'm just a child." The blade presses closer...and stops. A tremble travels down her arm. Still, Benedict sleeps on, unaware of his daughter's personal conflict. Her expression falters with her inability to take her father's life. She cannot will the love for him from her heart. The blade is pulled away, replaced by lips that kiss the creased flesh on which it rested. Karina takes a step back, longing for the strength to plunge the knife into her own throat, if not into her begetters. It's then that her fight with suspended consciousness ends. The knife drops to the floor, her body falling next to it a second later.

Vincenzo pauses only a moment before entering the room. His normally jovial expression is deadened as he picks up Karina's blade, tucking it into his belt behind him. He bends lower to lift the girl into the cradle of his arms, proceeding to carry her back into her bedroom. Setting her on the bed with care, he tucks the quilted comforter around her prone form. Gently smoothing her curls from her face, the old man is startled to meet her blue eyed gaze, far too aware for this time of day. He is stricken by the grief that reflects in Karina's eyes, even more so by the quiver in her lip. A single, reddened tear traces a crimson path down her cheek, before the eyes mercifully close once more. He wipes the stain of it from her porcelain skin before hurriedly exiting the room. Outside the door, he places a wrinkled hand to his chest in attempt to abate the overwhelming heartache he feels for the young girl. It is the first tear he's seen her shed since her Embrace, and it is the last he sees for the subsequent eighty odd years following this night.


	9. Chapter 9

**April of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

A deep blue Cadillac pulls into the rounded driveway of the Rosselini manor. A young, dark haired man steps out, brushing off his suit and staring up at the towering manse. His long stride takes him to the piazza in short time. He speaks with a servant at the door, and with a flash of warm mahogany eyes and a wide, white grin, he's lead to a door in the East wing of the manor. Niccolo Donati raises a fist and knocks.

Vincenzo opens the door, a surprised expression on his face when he views the visitor. "Mr. Donati, it's good to see you. I don't believe we were expecting you."

The young man smiles brightly, slapping Vincenzo on the back as he steps past him, and into the room. "No, I bet'cha wasn't."

Karina turns to the door, her expression apprehensive. Her eyes glance behind Donati, as if searching for another uninvited guest. "Niccolo. Did you fly all the way from Italy on your own?" Her eyes meet Vincenzo's, and they share a careful glance.

"If you're askin' if Bene's wit me, he ain't. However, your papa did request I make this visit." He turns to Vincenzo, waving the ghoul away. "How 'bout a little privacy, Vinnie?" Vincenzo casts an inquiring look to Karina. She levels a glare at Donati, which is received with a widened grin, before turning her gaze to Vincenzo and giving him a curt nod. The ghoul bows slightly, exiting the room and shutting the door behind him.

Donati gestures with his hands. "C'mon bambolina, you don't get up to greet your amico Niccolo?" She begrudgingly rises from her desk, approaching the young man and grazing each cheek with a soft kiss. Slyly, Donati turns his face after the first kiss, so her lips briefly land on his. He places his hands on her shoulders, holding her at arms length. His eyes comb over her body, an analytical look upon his face. "Bambolina, you've...ripened."

She flicks his hands away, perturbed. "What, am I a fruit now?"

He chuckles. "Still charming, Karina. You've matured. Where are the bows and frills?"

She straightens the hemline of her burgundy, velvet wrap. "I don't see the need to dress like a child around those who are intelligent enough to view me as otherwise."

Donati crosses the room, kicking off his shoes before dropping onto Karina's bed. He leans against the headboard, crossing his hands behind his head and shooting the young girl an impish smile. "This place is definitely nicer than home, Bernie doesn't spare any expense, does he?" Karina rolls her eyes, ignoring his statement. She sits back at her desk, sipping from her ever present glass of scotch. "Not even gon' offer your company a glass? I see your manners haven't improved in your time here." C

rossing her legs, she turns to him. "I'm not your servant, Niccolo. I believe it's the opposite. Now, while I'm absolutely thrilled to have you encroaching on my personal space and wasting my invaluable time...why did Papa send you here?"

Donati's wide grin fades a fraction. "So formal, bambolina. Could it be, I recall this austere young woman being a trifle more amorous with her Papa's ghoul?"

Karina sniffs haughtily, speaking in a scathing tone."Could it be that I only fucked you to stoke Papa's covetousness? In fact, couldn't that be why you're serving him, rather than being Embraced as a Kindred?"

Again, the young man's grin falters. After a moment he shakes it off, placing a hand over his heart, dramatically. "You cut me to the quick, Karina. Regardless, Bene sent me here to achieve what his 'persistent, yet disregarded' phone calls haven't. An' I'll tell ya now, if he doesn't receive a prompt and suitable response, he's going to come collect his answers, firsthand." Karina doesn't respond, staring at the young man reclining on her bed. She idly twists the gaudy band of gold around left ring finger. "You know if he comes here, he ain't gon' leave wit'out you."

At that statement, her eyes narrow. "I suppose he would be sticking around, then. If he didn't meet an untimely demise at the hands of those aware of his notoriety." she responds, smugly.

Donati nods as if she's answered an inquiry. "I'm sure you and Bernito have had many a chat about your poor Papa."

"We have not." she hisses. "Uncle Bernito and I have far more important concerns than a pedophiliac bastard who picks his childer from a grade school."

Donati flashes his bright, white smile. "There we go. Why don'cha tell me about these concerns. What trials could our bambolina possibly be so burdened with?"

Karina lifts her lip in disgust. "Trials that neither you nor he would even ponder a solution to."

"If it's so problematic, who don' you come home? Why is anything that happens in this domain your issue?"

A change comes to the young girl's posture, displaying both maturity and pretension. "I'm the Donna."

Donati looks at Karina, incredulous. "You're shittin' me. You makin' a joke, 'Rina? Are you actually making a joke?" Her eyes blaze with fury at his presumption. She spits a command into the empty air. Instantaneously, the specter of her mother manifests. She gestures toward the young man, and he is flung across the room and pinned to the wall by the wraith's impalpable power. "Ay! I wadn't tryin' to offend you! I was...shit, Karina, lemme down. C'mon, Donna Karina." It's only for the sincerity, even in his alarmed tone, that she orders her mother to drop Donati. He lands in a heap, slowly rising to his feet and brushing his suit off. He looks to the wraith manifested before him. "Still lookin' good, Mari." The wraith gives him a withering look, not unlike her daughter's, before fading back into the Shadowlands. He strides back over to Karina, not missing a beat. "Really though, I apologize if I affronted you. That is, well, that's an impressive rise to power, bambolina."

The young girl remains impassive. "Impressive, and well deserved. I have almost single-handedly preserved and protected the family in this area."

Donati brings his hands to the girl's jaw, resting just the tips of his fingers on her skin. "Your father will be proud to hear as such, Donna."

Karina rises from her desk, "As if that matters even an iota to me." she points to the door. "I'm sure you can see your way out, Niccolo." She turns to walk away from him, and he grips her upper arm, preventing her retreat with his superior strength. She turns to face him, slowly. "Do you really wish to rouse my temper once more?" Despite her threat, her voice lacks it's usual sharpness.

He seems to notice this, acknowledging it with a gentle stroke of his thumb to her flesh. "I'll go, but Bene sent me with a bestowal of sorts. It's in the rental. A Cadillac, beautiful, you'll love it.." Karina looks skeptical. "Don' worry, I'm not going toss ya in the trunk or drag ya off to Italy." He snakes his arm through hers.

"As if you could." she remarks, following him out of the room and through the manor to the driveway.

He runs a hand appreciatively over the hood of the Cadillac. "Such a beauty." Opening the passenger door, he pulls out a medium sized locked case. Karina watches, with only the vaguest sense of interest. Noticing this, he holds a finger up. Removing a small key from his inner jacket pocket, unlocking the case and standing aside so the young girl can view it's contents. Even in the dim of the night, the intrigue on Karina's face is palpable. The moonlight glints off the deep brown wood of the violin. The strings look taut and unused, as if waiting for the bows first touch. "It's a Stradivarius. Bene thought you'd like to take up y'old talent." She comes closer, grazing her dainty fingers along the smooth scroll and neck. Donati continues in a low, appeasing voice. "He loves you, 'Rina. You know that. He only wants what's best for his piccolo amore."

She rests her hand on the wood for a moment longer, before closing the case. He hands her the key, which she tucks into the top of her dress. He spreads his hands in front of him in a gesture of peace. She reaches to him, curling her cold fingers around his warm wrists. Karina pulls his hands to his sides and steps forward so she's flush against him. His pulse quickens under her fingers, even more so when she brings her lips to his ear. "You'll go back to Italy, Nic. You'll tell my Papa that I am fit and flourishing in my new position..." She grazes the ridge of his earlobe with just the tip of a fang, feeling his arousal press against her and slowly undulating her lower half upon his. "...then, neither you, nor my father will step foot in my territory. For as long as I command it..." She pinches the lobe of his ear between her fangs, just enough to draw blood, before pulling away. She licks the smear of red from her lips and reaches across him to pick up the violin case. "Or we will kill you." A twitch of a smile quirks her lips up, as she re-enters the mansion, leaving a stunned Niccolo in her wake.

Later that night, the mournful, yet exquisite sounds of the Stradivarius permeate the walls of the Rosselini manor.


	10. Chapter 10

May of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.

"Stay safe." Tony's parting words turn to dead air as the connection ends. She closes her eyes, blocking the sight of Vincenzo's concerned gaze. Despite the tranquility of the last statement, it is every previous comment that rings in the young woman's thoughts.

"Good, good. Uncle. I like that. See, we're a Family, right? We tell each other things. Especially when we work for an Uncle that would get SO MANY fucking letters of thanks if he were to just leave you out in the sun! It would be amazing. So many fucking bottles of wine would show up to my door if I plucked your insolent fucking head from your shoulders, but I'm not doing that now. You want to know why, Karina?"

The hand clenching her tumbler of scotch jerks forward, hurling the glass across the room to smash into a portrait on the wall. Splinters of wood scatter on the ground among shards of glass. Her hand tightens around the cell phone, arm tensing to heave the item against the wall to join the shattered glass. The slightest pause, as Karina grits her teeth and contemplates. Bringing the phone in her sight, she types out a message. "Cancel whatever plans you may have. I am demanding your presence. Now." Placing the phone with a forced gentleness upon the vanity, she reaches for her glass of scotch. Her hand grasps at empty air, and her gaze falls on the broken glass across the room. Pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand, she places the other flat on the empty wood. The feel of a bottle brushing against her skin draws her attention to Vincenzo, as he silently places the decanter next to her. Without expressing gratitude, she pulls the stopper free and brings the neck of the bottle to her mouth, filling her gullet with warm liquor with every swallow. Her narrowed eyes follow the ghoul, as Vincenzo crosses the room, sweeping the remnants of his mistresses temper into a small dustpan before exiting the room.

While waiting for her requested company to arrive, Karina nimbly types out several messages to the Renaldo and Regina. Her mouth bows down in a unpleasant scowl as her fingers jab at the keys. Without looking up, she dismisses the two male wraiths, an unseen look of relief crossing their faces as they leave without a word. She calls her mother's name, prompting the woman to manifest, peering at her daughter warily. A gesture and harshly spoken words bring the woman to her knees, gasping in pain. "Stand up, and stop your fucking sniveling." Marietta climbs to her feet dutifully as Karina spouts off brief commands at the woman, alert to the sounds of bewildered voices in the hall. She remains seated at her vanity, as the wraith opens the door, standing aside to allow the visitor inside."Get the fuck out of my sight, and close the door behind you." Karina says, not looking up at wraith or visitor. The woman walks out silently, and at the sound of the door shutting, Karina tosses her phone onto the desk violently and looks up at the Setite.

"Samuel." she says, in greeting.

"Having troubles with the help, tonight?" He keeps his tone serious, but his words are light.

"Not with the help, no. My tolerance wanes, as my temper flares, and I feel no need to keep my servants from experiencing the brunt of it." She remains still and seated, her gaze raking over Samuel with an expression that seems to fluctuate between lust and ravenousness.

"You seemed like you needed me here for something. Care to tell?" His tone shows a bit of a teasing nature, but is still guarded.

"Well, I certainly didn't call you over to play Parcheesi."

Samuel traipses, almost lightly, closer to the young necromancer. "What did you want to play?"

Her eyes meet his undaunted, "The game doesn't matter as much, as long as I have my plaything." she replies, pointedly. "Venite a me, Samuel." Silently, he approaches Karina, letting his hands remove his hat and shirt. She leans back in her chair, uncrossing her legs and watching him, hungrily. She points to the floor, directing him. "Kneel for me." Ripples pass across his tight flesh as he kneels, placing hands palms-down upon the floor. She looks down at him, unsmiling. "There are few things that placate my...irritability." She spreads her legs, urging him closer. "I fully expect you to sate at least one of my compulsions." He creeps closer to her, on all four of his limbs. Sammy's mouth opens lightly, exposing a wanting tongue. When he reaches her, she parts her legs further, drawing his head between them with a hand on the base of his neck. "You'll have to remove these." The other hand strays up her thigh, fingers skating across the fabric of her panties. Placing his head betwixt her knees, he lets his teeth softly nibble on her mound before pulling the panties down to her ankles. She watches him move between her thighs with impassivity. She removes her hand from his neck, hiking her skirt up to her hips, exposing herself to him.

He glances up with a look of incredulity. "Am I not entertaining you?"

Amused by his indignation, Karina keeps her response indifferent. "Did I declare anything of the sort?"

Samuel places both hands on her inner thighs and descends his face down to lick once up her slit. "You aren't quite responsive."

She arches an eyebrow. "Perhaps you should try harder to please me, then." He furrows his brow and descends once more, allowing his tongue to explore and tease Karina's clitoris.

Her hand twitches, as if to grasp at him once more, but the young woman keeps still. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips as she stares down at Samuel. He remains with his head lowered, but states, "Is that better, Ms. Rosselini?"

"Sì. Bravo ragazzo, Samuel." she replies, a hint of a smirk in her tone. He returns to the act, licking her ravenously and allowing a finger to enter her below his chin. She moans, almost inaudibly. Her hand returns to it's place on the base of his neck, pressing his face closer. He obliges, taking advantage of his dead lungs to perform his work with unrelenting longevity. His tongue dances on her clitoris as his fingers dart in and out. Her hips tilt up. As Samuel's fingers and tongue move deeper inside of her, Karina's moans are more distinct.

Samuel brings his head up to ask, "Satisfied with your toy, yet, Ms. Rosselini?"

"Not nearly, Samuel. I plan on using you quite thoroughly before the night is through." She trails her fingers around past his cheek, tracing his lips before placing her thumb between them. He looks down, seeming surprised at the gesture. Then, still looking up to her, he places his lips around her thumb. She removes her thumb, pulling his face to hers. Caressing his tongue with her own, she kisses him deeply. His teeth graze against her cold lips. Moving her mouth to his ear, she whispers "I enjoy tasting myself on your lips."

"You seem less... controlled, Ms. Rosselini. Giving into your sadistic side?"

"Only in one manner of speaking." Her voice gains a modicum of anger. She pulls back from him, gesturing with a dainty hand. "Stand." He stands, allowing his navel to be parallel to his partner's eyes. He looks like he's about to speak, but decides against it. Her eyes settle below his waistband, before looking up to meet his own. "Is there something you wish to say?" She rises from her chair, circling around him slowly.

Not usually one to hesitate, his words seem fail him. "Nothing."

Far too apathetic to press the subject further, Karina replies, "Hm." She stops behind him, resting her hand on his gun. "You don't need this." He unbuckles his belt and pulls it from his loops, causing the two guns to fall from their holsters. Karina curls her fingers around the waistband of his pants. "I shouldn't have to tell you that you don't need these, either." Still silent, his pants are loosened and lowered to the ground, he doesn't remove the thin black underwear that cling to his pelvis. She exhales loudly through her nose, tapping a foot impatiently. "Did you forget something?"

When he responds, she hears the smile in his voice. "No, I think I'm quite done." Within the thin underclothes, the front begins to swell at her impatience. A quiet growl escapes her lips. Placing her hands on his hips, she pushes him towards her bed. He heads forward, kicking his slacks away as they cross the room. Suddenly, towards the bed, he stops moving and begins to lightly struggle against Karina.

Noticing his hesitance, the young woman's grip tightens, as she digs her nails in. "Don't fucking resist me." She speaks in a low, angered tone. "To the bed, Samuel."

He slows farther, enduring the sharp pain. "If I don't, Ms. Rosselini?"

"My current demeanor leaves me desiring only two things. One of which is to engage in depraved and debased activities with my object of lust." She drags her nails from hip to buttocks. "The other is to rip someones soul from their eviscerated body, and send them shrieking into hell. So, if I'm not engaging in the former..."

Finally submitting to the young necromancer's demand, Samuel falls forward onto the bed, then props himself up on his elbows. "How debased and depraved does my mistress enjoy being?"

She pulls his briefs down, letting them drop to his ankles. "I don't wish to waste my breath, explaining. You'll soon find out." Landing a sharp smack upon the exposed flesh, she continues, "I believe I owe you some punishment, from your derogatory message the other night."

His body visibly tenses after the strike, stiffening and then relaxing again. At her mention of punishment, his erection grows to displace some of the bedding below him. "Yes, Ms. Rosselini."

She runs her hand gently along the cleft of his buttocks, before delivering another smack. "What would the Barony think of you, if they were to view you in such a compromising position?" She punctuates her words with another blow, smirking, knowing he can view her. He gasps, grinding his pelvis against the bed in response. His right hand slips below his body to grip his shaft and stroke it's length. Karina notices this, and her hand snakes around to grab his wrist. "No. None of that, Samuel." He lets go of his cock and places both of his hands below his head. His hips press out from the side of the bed, presenting himself to Karina. "Bravo ragazzo", she repeats. Her hand comes down numerous times in succession, each strike more powerful in ferocity. He gasps, pressing himself out farther after each blow. She pauses, resting her hand on his back in silence. The other hand creeps under his legs, stroking a finger between his cheeks and stopping at his entrance.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Rosselini. I know I need you to punish me." His voice seems equally anguished as it is enthralled.

Behind his back, unseen, Karina combats her own arousal. "You are not incorrect." she exerts the slightest pressure between his cheeks."You need to learn to treat me with respect at all times." she presses harder, letting her finger enter him a fraction. "And you need to learn that when you are under my roof, in my quarters, your body belongs to me, to use as I see fit."

His gasps turn to moans at her sudden invasion of his body. "Yes," he cries, "Please use me!" Samuel's hands grip the sheets above his head as he opens himself to her. His response entices a soft moan from her own lips. She pushes further into him, struggling to retain a facsimile of gentleness. Her hips press against him, seeking release, before pulling away. Clamoring for her touch, he presses himself out more to a full 90 degrees. Gripping of the sheets is replaced by a calmed pair of resting hands on the bed as Samuel adjusts to her finger's penetration of him. She delves her finger in deeper, the other hand reaching around to grip his cock.

"I think I may have something more entertaining to use on you." She stroke the length of his shaft, and releases her grip while removing her finger. Stepping away, she warns, "Do not move. If you touch yourself, I'll break both of your hands."

His hips move in protest as his hands move to his back. He states in a longing voice, "You may have to tie them, then." Despite his words, the Setite remains stationary on the bed.

There's the soft creak of a cabinet opening, and Karina approaches Samuel once more. "No, I don't believe I will need to." The statement is spoken as a threat. She moves forward, into his line of sight. In her hand is an ivory phallus, which she presents in front of his face. "You may wish to lubricate this. Unless your desire is for me to hurt you." She almost sounds hopeful. Remaining servile, he takes the phallus into his mouth a sucks lightly at it, coating it in his saliva. A look of hunger and need adorns his face as he looks to young girl, while sucking her cock. She watches him, visibly struggling against her own desire. Her free hand toys at the hem of he dress, before dropping to her side. Removing the phallus from his mouth, she stares hungrily at his lips, before turning her head away and re-positioning herself behind him once more.

"I can't even see your naked form before you fuck me, Ms. Rosselini?" He says from his face down position.

"No." she replies, pressing the phallus's tip into him without warning. He gasps, then presses himself against this new assault. Samuel's entire body contracts in preparation as his hand returns to his own cock. She simultaneously enters him more deeply, while grabbing his fingers with her free hand. She squeezes the digits, violently. "What did I fucking tell you, Samuel?"

He writhes in the agony and pleasure, but begs aloud. "Please, Ms. Rosselini. I need to!" His hips buck as he pushes against her, forcing the phallus deeper into him.

She bends his fingers back. "You can be satisfied when I allow you to fuck me. Do not test me." Her other hand continues to thrust her cock into him.

"Yes, Karina." He mouths, silently. He uses blood to heal his injured finger and focuses on maintaining rhythm with her strokes. She removes her hand from his, placing on his shoulder blade. Her thrusts continue with vigor. Her hand tightens on his shoulder as her hips occasionally press against Samuel's. Feeling the full vigor and length of her lust, Samuel cries out and receives it. He matches her tempo and lets his teeth gnash at the pillow. Karina voices no audible signs of pleasure or gratification. She leans against Samuel's body slightly, her curls falling forward to brush his back as her free hand curls around his cock, gripping it firmly. He ejaculates quickly, crying out again. His body shakes and tenses around her cock and under her hand.

She keeps up the motion of both hands for a moment after his climax, then pulls away abruptly, pushing his down into the bed as she steps back. She straightens her dress absently, staring down at the young man on her bed as he flips over, beginning to wipe away the semen from his abdomen. "You pulled out pretty quickly."

She leers at him, taking in the sight of his naked form. "Do you have a problem with that?" she replies.

"No," he says, cleaning himself off on the bedspread. "I'm to use as Ms. Rosselini requires."

She looks at the bedspread and back at him, eyebrow raised. Standing at the foot of the bed, she reaches behind her back, sliding down the zipper of her dress and letting it fall to her feet. "I'm not finished with you."

Admiring the ivory skin of his partner as he props up. Samuel's member lays across his lap as he re-positions to sit upon the bed. "What else are you going to do to me?" he asks.

She unhooks her bra, allowing that to fall to the floor, as well. "My needs have hardly been satiated. Are you planning on doing something about that, or must I take all the responsibility?"

Samuel's member engorges as he moves forward onto his knees to meet her at the edge of the bed.

She pushes her hair behind her shoulders, standing before him, dignified and proud in her bareness. Her eyes alight with fervor, as she pulls his face towards hers, assaulting his mouth with her own. His hands wrap around her frame, gripping at her hips and pulling her onto the bed atop him. With a quick movement, he forces her legs apart and brings her small form to rest above his, his member swelling to almost touch her lips. She grinds her hips against him, moving a hand between their bodies to grab at Samuel's cock. Rubbing it against her slit, she positions herself just right before letting him enter her. A small moan escapes her lips, as she savors the feel of him inside of her. Samuel finds his hands at the apex of her hips, tearing evenly cut fingernails against the soft skin. He rocks his pelvis and legs, forcing his full length into the woman. She pulls his hands from her hips, placing them on her breasts as she keeps pace with his rocking. Her back arches, pressing the soft flesh fully into his reach. He grips the petite breasts, digging nails into the soft flesh. Giving into his more base desires, he attunes a particularly strong thrust into her with a twist of both her nipples. She bares her teeth at the young man below her. Whether in pleasure or pain, is not apparent. She grinds her hips against him, stimulating her clitoris against his pelvis. Letting his hands fall from her breasts, he places a hand at the base of his cock and lightly pulls open her tender lips. The other, as gently, places two fingers about her clitoris and rubs it between them. She gasps, loudly and needlessly at his touch. Her hips bucking picks up pace and she leans forward, raking her nails down his chest. He reaches forward, curling his abdomen in order to meet his lips to her neck.

The light touch of his lips seems to entice her. Tension builds between her thighs and her clitoris throbs under his fingers. Nails digging deep into Samuel's flesh, she groans his name, bringing her mouth to his ear. "I would love to tear you to pieces." she growls. Her mouth meets his neck, fangs extended, but does little more that brush his skin. She compensates by gouging furrows in his chest with her nails.

(TO BE CONTINUED ONE DAY)


	11. Chapter 11

February of 1924. Sicily, Italy.

Sunlight streams through the bay window of a child's room. A ruffled bedspread lay askew on the floor. The former inhabitant of the bed preens in front of a full mirror, giggling to herself. Dressed in only her night pants and a training bra, Karina examines her reflection with scrutiny. She purses her lips, fluffing her hair and pressing her chest outward. The telltale signs of a young girl becoming a woman are only just apparent. However, the twelve year old seems pleased with her maturing body. She turns from the mirror and jumps, startled. A handsome, dark haired man whose deep blue eyes match her own stands in the doorway, attention on Karina, enthralled with his young daughter. "Papa!" she squeaks. "You startled me! I'm not proper." She grabs a robe off the bed, a blush creeping to her rounded cheeks.

Benedict smiles, entering the room. "Don't fret, little love. You are a beautiful sight to behold." Karina appears exalted as she ties the robe around her, rising onto her toes to kiss her father's clean shaven jaw. He takes her face in his hands, inhaling the scent of her coffee-colored curls. "My little girl is everyday being replaced by this young woman before me."

She wraps her arms around him, hugging herself to his chest. "I'm still your little girl, Papa. No matter what. I thought you and Mama were attending Uncle Fabrizio's party?"

Benedict strokes her hair affectionately as he responds. "Your Uncle Fabrizio is a cazzo, I sent Vinnie with Mama, he'll keep her out of trouble better than I." Karina places a hand over her mouth, stifling her giggle, "I thought it would be nice for us to have an evening to ourselves. A date night for your Papa and his little love."

The young girls steps back, clasping her hands together in excitement. "Oh, yes! I can make dinner for you, Papa! Vincenzo has been teaching me to cook. Can I cook for you? Please, Papa? Please?"

Benedict beams at his daughter's enthusiasm, reaching towards her to adjust the collar of her robe. "Of course you can, 'Rina." His eyes are alight with incitement. "You can wear that pretty dress I bought you. The white one, with the roses."

Karina makes a face. "You bought that dress a year ago, Papa. It doesn't really fit anymore."

He waves her comment away "Nonsense. It will fit just fine. That's how young women wear their dresses."

She looks doubtful for a moment, before shaking off the doubt and retaining her sunny smile. She pushes her father towards. "Alright. Go away, Papa. I'm going to get pretty for you, and then start dinner." She closes the door on his amused expression, and charges to her closet to prepare.

An hour later, Karina descends the staircase, peering around the parlor nervously. Benedict hears her approach, placing the newspaper down, mouth agape at the sight of his daughter. The same young girl who preened and fretted like an adolescent just an hour ago, appears every bit the woman she will become. The soft, white fabric clings to her scant curves. Her doll-like curls are pulled up in a clip, exposing a slender neck and pale shoulders held back in confidence. Low, but captivating heels bring slight calf muscles into prominence. Her father's expression draws Karina's burgundy colored lips into a slow smile. "I borrowed Mama's lipstick." she comments, shyly.

Benedict rises from his chair, crossing the room in a short pace and placing his hands on the girl's shoulders. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever set eyes upon." Karina blushes, furiously. His hands trace down her arms, wrapping around her wrists. "No wonder your Mama is so jealous of you, amore." His hands roam, following his eyes focus. Stroking high up her side, he passes his thumb along the embroidered rose on the slight swell of her breast. "I told you the dress would fit you. "

The slightest crease forms between Karina's brows, as she steps backwards a fraction. "I should start cooking. I want everything to be perfect."

Benedict kisses the creased brow, smoothing the skin with his lips. "So do I, Karina." He watches, hungrily, as his daughter turns away to head into the kitchen.

Karina works, tirelessly. Stirring and baking, a picture perfect domestic housewife. Her face is alight with pride as she places the plates of lasagna on the clothed dining table. She arranges the place settings as her father moves about her, lighting candles in gilded holders. Pushing a stray curl behind her ear, Benedict kisses Karina chastely, before the pair take their seats. Dinner is consumed with gusto, the meal peppered with a constant flow of compliment from father to daughter. Benedict sips from a tumbler of amber liquid as they eat, the liquor relaxing him in the same manner his admiration relaxes Karina. He reclines in his seat, as Karina clears the table. "Your cooking put even my dear, departed mother's to shame, piccolo amore."

She takes his empty plate, smiling. "You flatter me, Papa." she replies, before retreating to the kitchen. Placing the dishes in the sink, Karina busies herself with a sponge and detergent. Up to her elbows in suds, she doesn't notice her father's presence until he's at her back. She jumps, splashing a fair amount of water onto the counter. "Look at that, you're making a mess, Papa." she scolds him, gently.

He presses himself closer to her, his warmth felt through the thin fabric of her dress. Reaching over her arm, Benedict grabs a rag, soaking up the water from the counter. "We have servants for things like this, Karina." His breath tickles the young girls neck. "Why don't you join me in my study?"

Noticing something hard pressing against her bottom, Karina shifts her position, enticing a quiet gasp from her father. Her expression, unseen by Benedict, grows uneasy. "I really should finish cleaning up..." She watches the hand in her view drop the rag, pulling back to rest on the side of her breast, once more. Holding the plate between her soapy hands, Karina freezes. "Papa?" Her voice wavers in the slightest as she feels his other hand creeping under her dress. She shudders, goosebumps raising on her pale skin. Benedict pushes his pelvis against her, pressing her flush against the sink. His hand reaches it's destination under her dress, brushing against her undergarments. Karina's gasp is misconstrued by her father, and he moans in her ear, gripping firmly at the heat between her legs. The young girl stares ahead, her eyes wide and expression aghast as her father fondles her. Her skin grows feverish, her gut twists. Dropping the plate with a splash, the front of her dress becomes soaked as she braces against the counter to push Benedict back.

His hands fall away from her, and he grabs at his own groin briefly. His voice is harsh, but quiet as he spits a curse at his daughter. "Puttana!" Karina shrinks back, squeezing her eyes shut as his hand raises, as if to strike her. She feels no blow, only a breeze of air as Benedict turns on his heels and stalks from the kitchen. Opening her eyes again, Karina pauses only a moment before methodically mopping the water from the floor, trembling in her damp, too tight dress.

Keeping a wide berth from her father's study, Karina retreats to her bedroom. Turning her face away from the mirror, she grabs a tissue, wiping the color from her lips with ferocity. Her knees shake, and she fights the urge to drop onto them and sob. Reaching behind her back to unzip and remove the hateful dress, her heart drops as she hears her father enter the room. She holds the unzipped dress to her chest, turning slowly. Benedict's eyes are red and watery and dangerously focused on the exposed skin of Karina's shoulders. His unbuttoned shirt drapes against his solid chest. Like a deer in headlights, the young girl doesn't move. Like a predator, Benedict pounces. Karina yelps in fear as she falls backwards onto the carpet, her father upon her, trapping her under his superior strength. He rips the fabric from her hands, exposing her small breasts with a growl. "Papa! Please...stop!" She begs and struggles, fruitlessly. The carpet abrades the naked skin of her back, as he fights her legs open. The smell of scotch is panted into her face as he pulls at her underwear, tearing the cotton away. She uses his brief distraction to push at his chest with her palms. He totters enough for her to clamp her legs shut, and again he curses at her. This time his raised hand strikes soundly against her cheek, stunning the young girl. He rises, hauling her up with him. Pulling the clip from her hair, he grasps a handful of her curls, spinning Karina around to face the bed. She writhes and fights him, stopping only when he bends her over the bed frame, pressing her face into the mattress and cutting off her airway. Growing dizzy from lack of breath, Karina gasps as he releases his grip on her hair.

"Stay still, puttana. It will hurt less, that way." Heart racing painfully, the young girl complies. There's the soft purr of a zipper, and the whisper of fabric as Benedict drops his trousers. Now that Karina is still, his hands remain gentle as they push the fabric of her dress past her hips. She feels something firm and hot pressing between her legs, and despite her terror, she heeds her father's words and keeps her thighs parted. "Good girl. Good, Karina. Papa doesn't want to hurt you." He adjusts his position, easing himself inside of her. There is pain, and Karina tenses, her hands making fists at her sides. Benedict removes his hands from her hips, pulling her wrists together behind her and holding them behind her back as he thrusts with increasing roughness. Clenching her eyes shut, she endures the agony, unable to remain anything but alert and aware. In little time, Benedict groans and reaches his climax, his daughter's name escaping his lips. He pulls out of her, and she shudders at the feel of his seed and her own blood coursing wetly down her thighs. He pulls at the fabric of her dress, using it to clean himself off before letting it drape down and cover her exposed flesh. Still frozen, bent over the bed, she feels her father lean forward, placing a soft kiss between her shoulders. "I love you, Karina." he whispers, moving away from her. His voice is farther away as he exits the room. "You should get rid of that dress, I think you've outgrown it." On hearing the sound of his footsteps moving down the hallway, she pushes herself to a standing position. Her trembling succeeds in bringing her to her knees, this time. She stares down into her lap, watching small poppies of red blossom on the fabric of her dress. The blood matches the embroidered roses. Her eyes, a depth-less blue, reflect pain, terror, betrayal. For one slight moment, anger. The room grows dark with the coming night before she rises to clean herself up.

The next evening, Karina's home is once again bustling with servants and inhabitants. Confined to her bedroom. Karina stays immobile, lying on her back in bed. The only sense of activity in the room comes from the periodic trailing of tears down her temple, soaking into dark spots upon her pillow. The creak of the door opening jolts her into motion, as she pulls her covers to her chin in alarm. Vincenzo's soft voice calls into the room. "Miss Karina?" Karina doesn't answer, but her tense posture relaxes in the slightest. "Dinner is being prepared, miss."

She responds apprehensively, quiet unlike her usual boisterous tone. "I'm not hungry."

He stands at the door a moment longer, brow furrowed in concern. "You haven't left your bedroom for quite some time." She doesn't respond, simply turning onto her side to block the older gentleman from her view. Another moment's silence, and then the click of the door being closed, again. Karina squeezes her eyes shut, cutting off the flow of tears and willing herself to sleep. To escape.


	12. Chapter 12

**April 4, 1954. Sicily, Italy.**

Masses of bodies crowd into a lavishly decorated mansion. Kindred, Kine and ghoul, dressed to the nines, cavort and carouse to the sounds of a full musical ensemble. A handsome, dark haired gentleman banters with an assembly of similarly dressed men. His right arm gesticulates with the half full glass of bourbon in hand, the left arm is draped over the slim shoulders of a young woman. Her brown curls are tied back in a simple braid that dangles down the back of her strapless satin gown. At close look, her age is indiscernible. Her blue eyes peer around with disinterest, her face expressing little emotion. It's only the slight roundness of her cheeks, the stunted curves of her figure, that hint to her being less than a woman and more of a child. The man continues to prattle to the crowd, as oblivious to the young girl's boredom, as he is to the contempt of the men around him.

The young girl spies the fully stocked bar, to the far end of them room. She lifts her face to the gentleman, interrupting his dialogue. "Papa, sono annoiato."

He looks down to her, as she gently disengages from under his arm. "Bene. Andate esplorare, il mio amore." She plants a lingering kiss on his lips, her eyes straying to their audience. A few of the older gentleman shake their heads, appearing offended. Most overlook the pair. The young girl walks away from her father, an expression of relief is barely perceptible on her face. She cuts a path through the throng of people to take a seat at the bar, ordering a scotch from the scantily clad barmaid. Off the look of the few patrons seated around her, the young girl downs the beverage within moments of receiving it. Pushing the glass forward for a refill, she turns in her seat to face the dance floor. An attractive young man catches her eye, as he sashays along the dancing crowd. He catches Karina's gaze, winking, as he twirls an older woman in his arms, brusquely passing her off to another man. He starts to make his way over to the bar, and Karina quickly spins her stool around, putting the dance floor at her back.

Her nose turns up and she senses the man sidling up to the stool next to the her. "You look'a little too young to be drinkin', bambina." He flashes a wide grin to the bartender, attempting to capture her attention.

Only glancing at him briefly, the young girl retains her straight ahead stare as she responds, "You sound a little too imbecilic to be speaking to a woman of my stature."

The man chuckles and orders a gin and tonic before settling on the the stool. "Quite the charmer, ain't ya." The bartender deposits a glass in front of the man. Oblivious to Karina's indifference, he continues speaking. "I've seen you around, you're Bene's little girl."

She shifts, fixing him with an acidic glare. "Do I fucking look like a little girl to you?"

Before she can turn her face away, he reaches out, grasping her chin between his finger and thumb. Her eyes widen at his audacity. "You look like a lovely, and bored young woman. We need to entertain ya." He slips off the bar stool, finishing his drink and removing his hand from her chin.

"What in the hell makes you think..."

"Shh." he cuts her off, placing his hands about her hips and pulling her from the stool. "Dance with me, mia cara. We'll talk as we tango." Karina holds her tongue, taking the gentleman's hand as he jettisons the pair of them onto the dance floor. His feet move as quickly and aptly as his words, but the young girl keeps pace.

"You certainly have no lack of tenacity, Mr...?"

His warm, mahogany eyes light up at her eventual assent. "Donati. Niccolo Donati. Y'can call me Nic."

Retaining her stoicism, she replies "I shall call you Mr. Donati, until I feel we are on more amiable terms."

He grins, dipping her low over his arm. She catches a glance of her father, still chatting with his associates. Niccolo follows her gaze. "Y'know, your papa is in the works of getting himself a new ghoul."

Her attention becomes rapt, eyes narrowed. "What would you know of that?"

He shrugs, leading her across the floor. "Just word on t'street. Be a shame if he started neglecting his lovely daughter." She grows quiet, the only difference in her behavior being a more sumptuous movement in her dancing. Her hand moves from Niccolo's shoulder to the back of his neck, stroking lightly. Niccolo's grin widens, as if keeping a joke to himself.

The band starts in on a slower song, and without speaking, Karina steps closer to the young man. His hands rest on the small of her back as they revolve under the dimmed lights. She notices him glancing over her shoulder several times. "Ah. I think your papa has spotted you. Do you wish to return to him, Miss Rosselini?" Karina looks over her shoulder, pointedly. She meets her father's eyes, seeing the avarice in them, and turns away. Niccolo laughs. "If looks could kill, I'd be one handsome corpse."

Karina strokes her fingers along his throat, feeling the pulse beat under his skin. "Shouldn't you have your eyes on your dance partner, Nic?" He looks down at her, as she trails her fingers farther down his chest, other hand still resting on his shoulder. The shadowed room blocks sight of her movement between them, as she lowers her hand to his waist. One dainty fingertip traces coolly down the notches of his zipper, teasing the erection that strains at the fabric of his slacks. They continue dancing, as Karina strokes him through his pants. The din of the band and the crowd mask his muted groan. She runs her tongue against the curve of his neck, speaking low in his ear. "Vieni con mi, Niccolò. Dovrò mia nome sulle tue labbra in poco tempo." She slowly leads him away. "Among other things." she purrs, as they exit the dance floor, mouths and hands intertwined as the scramble into the first empty room available.

Much later on in the evening, Karina reunites with her father for the ride home. Vincenzo drives the Mercedes, humming along to a jazz tune on the radio. There is a dense, palatable tension between Benedict and Karina, but neither of them speak as the car pulls past the gates, approaching home. More silence follows, as father, daughter and ghoul enter the mansion. Vincenzo locks up behind them, respectfully refraining from pestering either Kindred with inquiries. Karina enters the parlor, a gratified expression on her face that doesn't falter, even when her father stalks in after her, falling into one of the leather chairs. She pulls a glass from the cabinet, pouring scotch into it. Off Benedict's expectant look, she turns to lean against the counter, sipping from the tumbler and peering at him arrogantly. He opens his mouth to speak, and quickly closes it, pressing his clenched fist against his lips. Karina watches him with grim amusement. His fist is pulled from his mouth to slam into the arm of the chair. The young girl doesn't react in the slightest, simply taking another drink. "Karina, what the fuck was that little show you put on?"

She feigns innocence. "I'm not sure what you're talking about, Papa."

He vaults up from his chair with enough force to knock it backwards. "You know damned right what I'm talking about!" His voice raises in volume. "You plastered yourself on some random Kine, like a common whore! You made your father look like a fool!"

Her lip lifts in anger, but her voice remains steady. "Oh, I'm sorry father. Did I ruin your friend's opinion of you by not acting as a perfect trophy wife? I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the fact that you parade your daughter around like a suitor is what makes you look like a fool."

His eyes blaze with rage, and he steps closer to the young girl. She moves to bring the glass to her lips, and Benedict snatches it away, splashing liquor as he heaves the glass at the ground. Her jaw tightens, as she glares into her father's eyes. "You brought shame to your family and yourself. What were you thinking? Acting like a spoiled child..."

At those words, she hisses with anger, pushing away from the bar to face her father toe to toe. Her words are coarse and shouted. "ACTING like a child?! I AM a fucking child! Something you conveniently forgot when you stuck your cock inside of me."

Without warning, Benedict's fist flies out, connecting with a sharp crack, striking the girl with enough strength to knock her to the floor. She stays on her knees, hand to her cheek. "I am your father and your sire! You can't speak to me like..." he seems to reign in his temper, seeing Karina crumpled before him. "Oh, God. 'Rina, darling. I'm so sorry." He reaches to touch her shoulder, and she swats his hand away, angrily. She climbs to her feet on her own accord, pulling her hand away from her cheek. The skin is purple, already bruised. The bone beneath has a peculiar appearance, as if fractured. Benedict looks aghast, as his daughter speaks to him with a emotionless voice.

"You are my father, and my sire. Which makes your actions these past thirty years even more appalling." Without another word, she leaves the room. Benedict sinks back into the chair, leaning forward, resting his fists against his forehead, moving only when the slam of Karina's bedroom door startles him out of his fugue.


	13. Chapter 13

**August of 1912. Sicily, Italy.**

Nestled in a bassinet of cherry oak and satin pillows, a cherubic child sleeps peacefully. The Rossellini home is bustling with activity as Marietta and Benedict proudly exhibit their newborn offspring. Newcomers coo at and admire the bambina, much to the delight of the happy parents. Little Karina momentarily fusses in her crib, and her mother swoops in mid-cry to console the child, offering the breast and beaming down at her with adoration. Hands pat Benedict on the back, sharing congratulations at the picture perfect family display.

A year comes and goes. In the pink walled confinement of the baby's room, a cry comes from the child's crib. The sound of it is coarse, as if coming from an abraded throat. Marietta stands at the room's window, a faraway disinterested look upon her features. The single cry turns to a steady wailing, and Marietta approaches the crib. She stares down to the tear filled blue eyes, the small arms reaching for mother's comfort. There is no love in the woman's gaze. Finally reaching into the crib, she brushes off the grasping child's hands and grasps a pillow. She pauses, a blank look on her face as she fingers the smooth satin. The child continues to sob, pushing Marietta into motion. She holds the pillow to the reddened face, gently at first, then with increasing pressure. The cries continue, muffled, as the tiny limbs flail in distress. The flailing begins to decrease, as raucous cursing fills the room. Marietta is knocked aside, pillow still in her hands. Benedict scoops the tearful infant into his arms, covering her small face with kisses. Glaring at his wife, he reprimands the woman as she stands in place, clutching the tear-stained pillow to her chest. "Gesù Cristo, Marietta! Have you lost your mind? Che diavolo stavi facendo per mia figlia?" She drops the pillow, slowly meandering out of the room on the wave of her husband's tirade.

 **November of 1918. Sicily, Italy.**

Karina creeps, barefoot down the hallway. She doesn't make a sound as she sneaks through her parent's propped open door. Her father and mother lay sleeping in their king sized bed. A light snore comes from her father's side of the bed, and that's where she makes her way to, kneeling by the mattress and gently shaking his shoulder. "Papa!" Her voice is barely a whisper, but Benedict wakes, blinking sleepily at his daughter.

"Karina, what is wrong?"

She clasps his hand in both of hers. "I had a nightmare." She peers around the darkened bedroom, as if checking the corners for beasts and bogeymen.

Benedict props himself on an elbow, looking concerned. "That's the third time this week, il mio amore."

She looks down, her voice low. "Could I sleep with you, papa? I know mama doesn't want me to, but..." She wraps her arms around herself, shamefully.

Her father is already moving over to allow her space as he responds. "Of course." The young girl climbs under the covers, tucking herself against her father's chest. The morning finds the pair bundled together, much to Marietta's disgust when she wakes. She doesn't mention her dissent to her husband or daughter, but later that afternoon, the woman moves her possessions to one of the many guest bedrooms in the mansion.

 **July of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The sound of impatiently tapping fingernails resounds through the spacious bedroom. Karina sits at her desk, alone. Her glass of scotch, currently untouched, sits at the ready. Clenched in the hand not drumming a rhythm upon the wood, is her cell phone. The young girl clenches her jaw, thumb hovering over the 'send' button. With resolve, she presses it and is rewarded with the sound of a phone ringing in her ear. After a moment, a cocky, familiar voice answers, "Buonasera. Hai raggiunto il telefono di Benedict Rossellini..."

Karina rolls her eyes, cutting off the greeting with a single word. "Niccolo."

The voice on the other end loses some of it's cockiness, sounding astonished. "Karina? Do mine ears deceive me?"

Karina stops tapping her fingers, instead curling them around the glass of liquor. "I don't have time for your nonsense, I wish to speak to my father." Over the phone, the sounds of one moving through a house full of activity ebbs and flows.

Niccolo's voice is rigid and professional as he responds. "Yes. I'll put him right on." He doesn't speak again. During the silence, Karina traces her fingers along the polished glass, still not bringing it to her lips. Her hand grows still as a smooth and careful voice comes on the line.

"Il mio tesoro."

Karina responds, her voice cold. "Father."

"It is so good to hear your voice, 'Rina." His voice is a polar opposite, exuding warmth and affection.

"I wish I could say the same."

"Why do you speak to your papa in this manner?"

The young girl's retort is brought to a halt as she digests the despondency in her father's voice. Her eyes drop to her lap, reflecting an emotion scarcely seen. Guilt. She finally caves in, taking a deep drink from her glass. "I apologize for my impudence."

"There's no need to apologize, piccolo amore. Niccolo has told me of your advance in leadership. I can imagine that's quite a burden to you." His tone is rife with concern. "Bernito isn't working you too hard, is he?"

At mention of Bernito's name, Karina grows slightly defensive. "Uncle Bernito has been supportive and accommodating."

"I don't doubt that." he replies, backtracking.

"I did not contact you to discuss my living arrangements." Iciness creeps back into the young girl's voice.

"Then why, after abandoning your papa almost a year ago, do you call?"

"Abbandonando? I did not abandon you. Sono scappato da te." She stops, biting back her anger unwillingly. She pushes her glass away, placing her empty hand flat on the table.

"Vedo. So, you called to bombard me with reminders of my inadequacies as a father?"

"I did not." Karina stalls, unable to respond in her true manner. "I.." she hesitates, uncharacteristically. "Papa. Marietta is gone."

"What?" Benedict sounds genuinely befuddled.

"My mother." She adds, as an afterthought, "Your wife."

"How is that possible? She is your guardian. Has someone attacked you?" His concern is centered on his daughter, with no regard for his estranged wife.

"I am fine. Her loss is not going unpunished."

"Karina, what are you not telling me?"

"I could write several hefty tomes with what I'm not telling you."

"Why, then? Why do you reach out to me? You've clearly surpassed your dependence on your father. Why do you try to provoke me into anger? Why do you send Niccolo back home with your threats?"

The young girl contemplates her answer, expression growing more and more distraught. She pulls the phone away from her ear, placing it on the table in front of her. Her father's voice comes through the speaker once, calling her name in inquiry, before she hits the 'end' button. She sits silently, as she gradually retains her stoic demeanor. Pushing away from the desk, she exits her room, short after joining Bernito in her continued studies.


	14. Chapter 14

**July of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Following the family's return from Rome, The Rosselini manor is the picture of a bacchanalian revelry. Thomas and Bernito have opened multiple casks of wine and bottles of Italian Rose'. The mortals see it as merely another one of the various perks of being wealthy, but those ghouls in the house seem to be in the know. Besides the three normal kindred denizens, a friend of Bernito's from the old world seems to have come to Annapolis to accept his hospitality. The guest is a Premascine who spends most of the party enjoying anachronistic theistic debate with Thomas. Vincenzo, naturally cordial, socializes with the staff. He sips from a glass of wine, periodically checking in on Karina. The youngest Rosselini perches rather stiffly in an armchair, close enough to overhear conversation, but abstaining from joining in. Her expression is as morose as usual, her posture hinting towards a desire to be away from such raucous celebration.

Bernito, Thomas, and the Premascine break out into sudden laughter when one of the young men of the manor falls over a chair in his drunkenness. Unsurprisingly, Karina doesn't join in with their laughter. Her eyes briefly stray to the Premascine, surveying him, silently. His skin is as that of a man who has suddenly lost a great amount of weight. His face appears lower than it should be, and is marred by deep and dark trenches beneath his eyes. After a moment she withdraws a leather bound book from between the cushions of her chair. Turning her attention from those around her, she begins reading. Noticing his ward's disregard with their company, Vincenzo wanders from the other room. He approaches Karina, gently chastising her for her unsocial behavior. She glowers at the ghoul, and with a haughty sniff, reluctantly stows away her book. Requesting a potent alcoholic beverage from one of the staff, Karina joins her family. Upon her approach, Thomas uses a small fork to ring against the wine bottle in his hand. "Attention, mi amicos. The lady of the house has come out of hiding and has graced us with much needed beauty and youthfulness." The small crowd laughs and the Premascine's bellowing overshadows the group chortling.

Karina curtsies, sardonically. Receiving her drink, she tips it towards Tommy in a toast. "Tu sei un bastardo sfacciato, Thomas." Despite her pseudo contempt, the young woman seems mollified.

"Sono. Ma solo perché ti amo, cugino." he replies, placing a small peck upon her cheek as the group howls in laughter at both of them. Vincenzo's laughter can be heard from across the room, joining the others. Shooting a stern glance to her ghoul, Karina makes a show of appearing abashed by Thomas's affection, taking a deep drink from her glass.

Bernito, patting Thomas on the back, seems to be in one of the better moods he's been in since moving to Maryland. "Tommy, go get the Centerba from the cellar. I'd ask Brunantoni, but I think he's replaced sewer water with pickle juice."

Karina smirks a little at Bernito's comment, "And that is why I stick to scotch." The flamboyant Premascine follows Thomas up the stairs, his ears literally twitching at the mentioning of the hundred-herb liquor, leaving Bernito and Karina relatively alone in the gaming lounge of the manse.

"Did you enjoy your trip to Rome, Karina? I didn't know if you'd gotten a chance to visit home this year." Bernito states as he begins laying glasses across a wide oak and stained-crystal table.

Her face briefly becomes sour, the expression leaving as quickly as it came. "Rome was certainly an engaging experience. I didn't expect so much...company." Karina taps her nails against the side of her glass, distractedly. "I haven't been back home, no. It was a trial escaping there in the first place."

"I believe that Tlacaelel wanted to make sure that word of his success made it's way through the learned world. Thomas seemed to delight in seeing Valik again. I had no idea that they knew one another. Strange that the three of you should have such a triangular acquaintanceship."

"It is good to see Thomas in such an optimistic disposition. I can only imagine it's our shared interests in power and destruction that draw the three of us together." She shakes her head in mock distaste.

"Oh to be young again." He replies with a light smile that shows the lack of humanity in his eternally young cheeks. "I did have something of a present for you, if you'd like it."

"Youth does have it's glaringly obvious setbacks." Despite her words, the young girl's voice lacks bitterness, as if Bernito's good humor is contagious. To his second statement, she simply appears curious.

"You'll get over those setbacks, soon, I'm sure. From what I hear from Thomas when he's regurgitating whatever mind control that therapist used to give him, accepting your 'flaws' is important in strengthening yourself. He ended up making the shrink kill himself on a playground, but he seems to take the advice to heart." Bernito takes a small box from under his chair. "I'd thought to wait a while to give this to you, but with your mother being gone... I found that you deserved what was rightfully yours. I already had it resized for you." He passes the wrapped box to Karina.

Karina let's out a brief bit of laughter, before composing herself. Looking slightly perplexed, she takes the package from Bernito. Setting her glass down, she opens the box. Inside is a small, recognizable ring, a wedding band. It matches the one on the girl's own hand.

"It took a bit of doing, but I was able to ensure that it was sized to your exact finger width."

Karina stares down into the box, a crease forming between her brows. When she finally looks up to Bernito, her expression is perplexed. She sets the box on the table, cautiously. "Where did you get that?"

"Your father, if you still call him that. He'll be here in a few months to replace your mother in your service."

Karina's eyes widen in the slightest. She stares at Bernito in silence for a moment. Pulling her phone out, she turns from him, walking away a few steps. The young girl dials, pressing the phone to her ear. The conversation is terse, her words flowing from English to Italian as her tone grows increasingly agitated. Ending the call, she clutches the phone in her hand, still facing away from Bernito. She speaks one word to him, the two syllables rife with distress. "Explain."

Bernito raises one eyebrow as he adjusts his shoulders to a more active stance. "Your father was set to die when you were Embraced, but I took the responsibility for him until we could find a use for him. We used him in the ritual, and it worked quite well."

She stays silent, her head bowed. Then, slamming her phone to the ground, she rounds on the older Rosselini. Her voice is an erratic shout, "Bernito, che cazzo?!" At the rare sound of her raised voice, Vincenzo comes to the room looking alarmed, his hand straying briefly under his suit coat.

Bernito seems more confused than offended as she shouts to him. "Your father, that stole your potential from you and doomed you to a death just after your Embrace, was given to me. I killed him so that he would replace your missing mother. I don't understand how this isn't good."

The old ghoul moves closer to Karina, eyes full of concern. Karina ignores his presence, continuing in a tone quite unlike her usual. "You don't understand!? He is my father!" Vincenzo's hand briefly rests on the young girl's shoulder, before he's pushed aside, forcefully. "Don't fucking touch me, Vincenzo." she snarls, and the ghoul stumbles, backing up in a hurry. To Bernito, she carries on with her tirade. "Regardless of what he has done to me or what standards he has broken, he is my Papa..." she cuts herself off, seeming to struggle between anger and sorrow.

Bernito stands, calmly with his hands lightly raised. "You need to contain your emotions, Karina. Your father doomed you to an eternity in a body that's barely your own, and I let him live until you were ready to move on without him. You are ready. You've studied the Path."

His calm incites Karina into further rage. "His life should have been mine to take!" she steps toward Bernito, fists clenched at her sides. "You have no idea what he.." she stutters on her words, looking furious. "..what you've taken from me."

Bernito approaches her and attempts to lay a hand on her shoulder. He hints to Vincenzo to close the door. "I have no idea what he- what? What he meant to you? What he did... to you?" His eyes seem to look past Karina, although they meet her gaze intently. Vincenzo, his expression wholly sympathetic, exits the room at Bernito's request, closing the door behind him.

Karina swats his hand away, with less conviction than with the ghoul. "Nothing." she responds, unwilling to formulate further explanation. Bernito, standing over her with an expression that grows less humane with the moment.

"Karina," he states alone.

She meets his stare, unflinchingly. "It is irrelevant."

"Then why would you bring it up?" Bernito seems to be placing his shoulders directly parallel to her's, almost goading a physical response despite his calm and determined look.

"I was stating a fact." Her reply is spoken through gritted teeth, as she restrains herself both physically and emotionally. "You're obviously oblivious to what you've done." Her gaze drops, just for a moment, before returning to Bernito's.

"You're obviously confused about what happened, Karina." He gets closer to her so that his abdomen is against her's. "You need to speak what's on your mind, or it's going to eat you alive."

"I am not, and I do not." she takes a step back, putting space between the two of them, once more. Bernito presses both himself and the issue forward. "Why was it important for you to kill him?"

She holds her hands out, attempting to halt his progress. Her voice is low with the effort to keep it steady. "Stop this, Bernito."

"You have no right to ask that of me, Karina. Not after all that I've done to keep you safe and to bring you justice. There's going to be a time when telling me will bring you closer to the Beast, and I need to know why you so needed to kill him yourself."

She glares at the taller man, before pushing past him, striding to the table where her drink sits. Placing her fingers almost gently on the polished wood, her eyes settle on Bernito's gift. Again, her anger comes forefront as she swipes the glasses off the table. "Why the fuck, do you think a grown man would turn his adolescent daughter into his immortal companion?!" She pulls her mother's ring from her finger, flinging it at Bernito's chest. "Why do you think I wear his wife's wedding ring?"

Bernito silently picks up the ring from the floor, then takes the time to retrieve the other matching set from the box still on the table. His face is that of a marble statue, pale and uncaring, but his eyes protrude with an anger and fearsome loathing. The ruby veins in his sclera spread to his cheek bones and brow. "Did you know that I was the one to torture your father after his Embrace, Karina? I was given the task to pull flesh from bone with a small file and scalpel. He screamed night after night, and I even exposed him to sunlight at random intervals during his daily hours of sleep." Bernito's voice is that of controlled and meticulous meditation. His phrasing is practiced, as if having prepared to say the following for some time. "He will beg me for those days in the months ahead, Karina. He will know not a single second of reprieve from pain. His death will be a new birth that will leave him bloodied and screaming as the day he left his dead mother's womb. We're going to ruin his soul, my dear. We're going to replace everything he's ever known with agony. I swear it to you."

She meets his eyes as he speaks, chest and shoulders heaving as she digests his words. When he stops speaking, she swallows, harshly. Words failing her, her gaze drop to her feet. Bernito travels across the floor to Karina and places two stiff arms about her. It doesn't seem as though he truly understands what he's to do, but his physical presence seems to show that he is attempting to comfort her. She doesn't shrug off his attempt, nor does she accept it. She simply continues her staring at her feet. "I have acted shamefully."

"Yes." Bernito states, releasing her. "It's understandable, however. We all have our moments of weakness. Where's that fucking liquor?"

"I hate it." She looks up, expression furious, contrasting with her quiet tone of voice. "I am not weak."

"You aren't, Karina. You've held things together well these few decades. You deserve a night of catharsis."

"A night seems a trifle too brief, uncle Bernito." A hint of her characteristic smugness shows through.

"I'm sure Brunantoni could keep this going for another week , if you'd like."

"If only. The town would likely go up in flames, were I not there to direct the morons." She looks to the smashed glass and spilled scotch, wistfully. Pressing her lips together briefly, she directs her gaze back to Bernito, her words sounding awkward. "I do truly apologize for my disrespect towards you. In the short time I've been under your care you have only done what is best for me. That's more than I can say for those responsible for bringing me into this world." She turns away, stooping down and busying herself with picking up the remnants of the glass.

"Don't apologize to me, Karina. Regrets are something that people like you and me never have to worry about. We do what we do for good reason, or we wouldn't have done it. I will watch over you as long as you allow me, as if you were my Childe. As for these," he states as he places the two rings in his right hand, "You can have them as soon as you'd like."

She rises, approaching Bernito. Placing her hand over his, she takes both rings. Her blue eyes seem to hold far too many emotions to discern, but her expression remains stoic. "Thank you, Bernito."

His brow creased and eyes dire, Bernito seems to take inspection of the kindred. "You will always have family here, in this home. Thomas will always love you as a cousin, in his odd way. I still see you as my grandchilde, even if my blood doesn't flow in your veins."

Her response is stiff, and somewhat formal. "I understand that, and I am grateful. I can only hope to encompass the strength and nobility that you possess." In an attempt at a more humanistic tone, she adds. "I strive to bring pride to the Rosselini family, as if I were your Childe."

Hearing the sounds of Thomas and Brunantoni's return, Karina promptly steps away from Bernito. Her face turned away, she slides both her mother and her father's rings back onto her finger as she busies herself with a fresh glass of scotch. The revelry seems to seamlessly commence once more, as if faced with no prior interruption. Off Vincenzo's concerned glances, Karina joins her family for several hours before retiring to her room. Kissing the cheeks of Bernito, Thomas and somewhat warily, Brunantoni she pauses to direct Vincenzo. "Vedi che io sono rimasto da solo, stasera." The ghoul nods, his lips parting to inquire of his mistresses well being. Before the words leave his mouth, the young girl is up the stairs and out of sight. Her request and hurried departure an equally silent answer to his unspoken question.


	15. Chapter 15

**July of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Moonlight gleams down onto the expansive Rosselini property. Under a broad gazebo strung with lanterns, Karina rests in a wicker chair. Even in the scant illumination, the steady decline of humanity is noticeable in her features. Her skin paler than the anemic glow of the moon, eyes shadowed like the umbra of evening. Several large books lay open on the glass topped table. The young girl studies the pages of the nearest tome for a moment, before jotting down notations into a leather bound journal. She peruses the text once more, leaning back into the chair, tapping a finger on her lips thoughtfully. Glancing up, she catches sight of Vincenzo making his way to her location. The ghoul carries a large package with him, which only draws the slightest spark of interest from his mistress. She resumes her reading, as he takes a seat across from her, propping the package against one of the gazebos beams. He casually pulls his newspaper from his back pocket, and begins reading the personals. Eyes motionless on the page, Karina strays her gaze to the wrapped item adjacent to her. A small crease forms between her brows, and she glances back to her ghoul. Vincenzo remains attentive to his paper. The young girl focuses her own concentration back to her studies, but only briefly as the wrapped item captures her interest once more. Tapping her fingers on the table, she stares at Vincenzo intently. The small crease in her brow growing to a full definition.

The ghoul peers over the top of his newspaper, an expression of barely contained amusement on his face. "Is something troubling you, Miss Karina?" She inclines her head towards him, lips pressed together in a thin line. He chuckles quietly, leaning forward to still her tapping fingers with his warm hand. "Rilassarsi, signorina." He folds the paper, setting it on the table. Observing her fixation on the parcel, he reaches behind him to retrieve it. "Certainly you didn't you forget the approach of your giorno della nascita."

Karina's expression falters, as if she's taken aback. "In all honesty Vincenzo, I did." She shakes her head, scornfully. "Such things become trivial after the first century."

Vincenzo's smile doesn't waver, as he rises and presents Karina with the wrapped parcel. "Regardless, I'm aware of your fondness for gifts."

The young girl tears the paper away with a rarely seen exuberance, uncovering a large portrait. Nestled in a frame of burnished gold lay a simple, but tasteful oil painting of Karina and Bernito. Karina stares at the canvas for several silent moments, her face unreadable. "This is..." Her expression softens, the appearance almost unsettling. She meets the ghoul's pleased gaze. "È bello. Grazie mille." She once more leans back in her chair, face reflecting the conflict of emotion and apathy. "Vincenzo, you have served..." she bites off her words, visibly struggling with herself. "You have cared for me for the entirety of both my mortal and immortal life." The ghoul keeps quiet, clasping his hands behind his back and focusing on the young girl. "Remembering that that should mean something to me is becoming increasingly more difficult. In the weeks to come, I imagine it will be impossible." She's silent for several moments, allowing her gaze to fall on the wedding bands on her finger, the picture before her, and finally back to Vincenzo. "Know that if anything were to happen to me, your existence would continue in my absence." She rises from her chair, looking up at the elderly gentleman. "Know that if anything were to happen to you, I will see that blood is spilled in torrents enough to avenge your loss."

Karina steps up on her toes, placing her hands on Vincenzo's shoulders. Her cold lips press to his weathered cheek in a kiss. "Nessun vendetta potrebbe compensare il vostro valore per mi." Her tone is dispassionate, even as she rests her head on the ghoul's shoulder in an imitation of affection. He unclasps his hands, placing them at her back for the split second before she quickly moves from his embrace. Collecting her books from the table, she doesn't look to Vincenzo as she orders "Bring the portrait to my quarters and have it hung on the westernmost wall, across from the vanity." Curls bouncing with the pace of her stride, she heads back into the manor, leaving the ghoul in her wake.


	16. Chapter 16

**August of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

From the corner of the room, an open laptop displays the blinking of an oncoming message.

You there? Thought u wanted to meet?

Karina seats herself in front of the screen, face expressionless as she types a response.

Sorry. Told mom and dad I was going to spend the night at my friend's house. What's your address?

The scant light from the computer illuminates the ghastly pallor of her skin, her eyes seem to retain the only semblance of life in her face. She takes a sip of her scotch, nails tapping on the table in a staccato rhythm as she waits for a reply. The glass is drained before she receives the address of a motel nearby. Attached is the message: Can't wait 2 finally meet u.

Her nose wrinkles in distaste at the mutilation of spelling, even as she types out: Me neither. See you soon. Rising from her chair, the young girl readies her belongings. Sparing a glance in the mirror, Karina scrutinizes her reflection. Her dark curls are pulled back into two pigtails tied with bows. A modest dress falls to mid shin, the ruffles and childlike appearance of the garment a stark difference from her usual style. Slipping on a pair of sandals, she leaves her room and makes her way through the house. Off the puzzled looks of the mortals, Karina exits the manor and climbs into the passenger seat of Vincenzo's Mercedes. Wisely, he doesn't comment on her attire. She instructs him to drive to the address provided, and he complies.

Shortly after, the car pulls in front of a seedy motel. "Keep close." Karina orders the ghoul, as she steps from the car. Her low heels make little sound as she walks down a pathway, stopping in front of one of the rooms. Paint peels in flecks around a rusted room number. The tap of her nails on the door cuts the silence of the night. There's a flick of curtains as someone peers out, before the door opens wide. A balding, beer bellied man in his early 40's greets Karina. His eyes rake over the young girl as he ushers her inside. Making small talk, attempting to charm her, he offers her a beer. She sips at it, making the expected show of distaste at the foul tasting beverage. "You're so pretty. You seem so much older than twelve." The pair takes a seat on the couch.

Slipping her shoes off, Karina gives a forced giggle when the man starts massaging her stocking covered feet. She traces a toe along the inseam of the man's slacks. "Sei patetico. Fa il vostro moglie sa che si sta cercando di sedurre un bambino?"

The man looks shocked. "Was that Spanish? You must go to a good school." She resists rolling her eyes, scooting over to deposit herself into his lap. He's overjoyed, twisting his fingers into her hair and clamping his beer tasting lips over her own. She places a hand on his shoulder and the man shudders, pulling his lips from hers. "Your hands are freezing, honey."

Karina meets his gaze, her blue eyes wide and unassuming. "Any ideas on how to warm them up?" She trails her hand down his chest and lower, much to his delight.

"Ah. Oh yeah. That's nice."

She whispers to him, grazing her mouth along his neck. "Disgustoso suino. Spero che vi piaccia l'inferno." He moans quietly at the feel of her teeth on his skin, her free hand pressing against his neck. Allowing her fangs to extend, Karina sinks them into his throat, as she presses her fingers into his windpipe.

The grip of her fangs and fingers brings a muffled scream to the man's lips, and she tightens her grasp on his struggling form. From nowhere, another gentleman appears in the room. He spreads his hands and several strands of undulating shadow wrap around the man's arms and legs, detaching his hold on the girl and rendering his struggles fruitless. Karina continues to drink, her pale visage growing subtlety less inhuman as she consumes her fill. Sated, she detaches herself from the drained corpse and with a twist of her hand, the body crumbles and disperses into nothing. Straightening her dress and sliding her shoes back on, she addresses her wraith. "Cuthbert, be a dear and find his spirit. Bring it to the manor. He is not quite finished suffering, yet." The wraith snaps off a salute and unmanifests as Karina exits the room. Vincenzo rests in a lawn chair outside the door. He folds his newspaper and places it in his coat as he rises to greet his mistress. They reenter the car, and Vincenzo silently hands a silk handkerchief to the young girl. Dabbing at her lips daintily, Karina hands the now blood spotted kerchief back to her ghoul, and he pulls from the lot to head back home.


	17. Chapter 17

**August of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Bidding a pleasant evening to the Brujah, Karina instructs her ghoul to see Blair out of the manor. Once alone in her study, the young girl absently traces her fingers along the scythe formerly owned by an enemy of her family. Her vaguely pleased expression is cut short as she recalls something Blair mentioned. Voice barely above a whisper, Karina calls for one of her wraiths. After a few moments, a round faced gentleman with honey colored hair manifests in the room. His eyes briefly stray to the scythe that Karina so affectionately rests her hand on, before meeting his mistresses gaze. "You called, miss?"

Karina nods, gesturing to a seat to her left. "Sit, Alain." The wraith complies. "Blair conveys her gratitude for your assistance with disposing of .." she waves her hand at the robes and wooden mask on the table.

The wraith grins, speaking excitedly. "Oh, it was a breeze! We followed him, and she whipped out her guns and just started blowing his ass away. Got kind of worried when she got too close and he slashed her with that thing," He points to the scythe. "But I just did my thing and he got distracted enough for..."

The wraith's enthusiastic ramble is cut brutally short as Karina waves a hand towards him, spitting a chant under her breath. Alain tumbles from his chair, a strangled shriek tearing from his throat. Gasping, he looks up at Karina, his expression both pained and bewildered. "What.." The glare given by the young girl freezes his words in his throat.

"Shut up." Her hand grasps around the handle of the scythe, but remains stationary there. "What were the orders that I gave you, Alain?"

Panting, he replies "You told me to conceal Blair, stick with her through the fight...uh..." He stutters around his words, once again shrieking in pain as Karina torments him further.

She stands, looking down at the wraith with disgust, clutching the scythe by her side."What. Were your fucking. Orders."

Shuddering at her feet, Alain meets her eyes, panic stricken. "Not to help or interfere."

She brings her arm forward, resting the tip of the blade against the wraith's chin. "And did you adhere to those orders?"

Pulling from the blade in the slightest, he stammers, "Y-yes?" Karina's face becomes rife with fury. With a swift movement, she draws the scythe back and slashes it up the wraith's torso. Howling in agony, despite the bloodless wound, Alain fades into the Shadowlands. Calling for the other wraiths, Karina drops the scythe back onto the table, taking her seat and sipping from her glass. The entourage cautiously enters the room, eyes switching between the battered wraith on the ground and their impassive mistress.

Karina meets each of their gazes with a look of supremacy. "It is beyond redundant that I need to declare my control over any of you. While in my servitude, you have no free will. My word is final. My orders are your law and your bible, and I am your fucking god." Jackie Boy, the youngest of the wraiths, weeps quietly as she speaks. Karina watches him unconcerned, as she continues in a more compelling tone. "As long as each of you take heed of this, you needn't suffer." She points her toe towards Alain, still writhing on the floor. "Pulire che fino. Get him the fuck out of my sight."

One of the taller, lanky wraiths hefts Alain by his armpits. "C'mon brother.." he mumbles, pulling the wraith from the room.

At the spirit's exit, Vincenzo reenters the room, eyes briefly surveying Karina. Seeing her as unharmed, he seems mollified. "Do you wish for me to put your new gifts somewhere?"

Her blue eyes rest on the weapon before her. "Si. Take them to my room. Put the ashes with my collection, and this," She strokes the blade of the scythe, fondly. "Hang this on my wall."

Vincenzo collects the items, arching an eyebrow at the young girl. "Won't some of your frequent callers raise questions over this particular decor?"

Karina opens a book and waves her hand in the air, unperturbed. "Just...ricordami di non fanculo il vescovo nella mia cameretta." The ghoul chuckles, closing the door behind him as he leaves Karina to her musings.


	18. Chapter 18

**September of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

A tall gentleman of Asian descent strides purposefully up the driveway of Rosselini manor, knocking on the door. Shadows writhe and curl around his feet. Seemingly from nowhere, a young, shaggy haired boy barrels up the driveway after him. "Hi, Mister Viktor! C'mon in!" He enthusiastically flings open the door, much to the surprise of a white haired gentleman, who stands in the vestibule ready to open it himself.

Viktor nods to the young wraith, the shadows surrounding him pulling back to avoid grazing the boy. "Good evening," he greets to the gentleman. "I request an audience with the Donna."

Vincenzo simultaneously bows to the visitor, while waving the wraith away. Jackie Boy scowls, and races up the stairs towards one of the bedrooms. "Of course, sir." replies Vincenzo. He leads Viktor to a sitting room, where Karina casually lounges on an antique scrolled couch.

The Lasombra strides into the room, fixing Karina with stern glance. "Good evening, Donna Karina." There's an edge to his tone as he nods in greeting.

She looks up from her book, surveying him with shadowed eyes. Her transition from humanity is more pronounced than ever. "So formal, Lord Abendroth." Her voice is bland, lacking jest or affection. She closes her book, setting it on the coffee table before her.

"If my formality is not to your liking, Donna, I will not meander." His eyes scan the young girl over, his tone unclear between lust, adoration, and anger. "Within the last few nights one of my brethren disappeared while hunting. Given the obvious animosity between his lineage and your family you are, unfortunately, my strongest lead and potential source of information. What do you know of Tanner's disappearance?"

Karina's face, as usual, remains stoic."The hunchback with the scythe?" She crosses her legs, resting her elbow against the arm of the couch. Her voice sounds bored. "Viktor, dear. If I knew of Tanner's disappearance, it would likely be due to my own involvement. And if I were involved, you should have no doubt that I am the type to level my command over you to eradicate the blight, yourself."

Viktor's fists clench even as he retains his impassive facade. "And if you were to do so, you should have no doubt that such an attempt would end in failure, at best. Unless your ascending to a more perfect Cainite has given you delusions of just how much power you wield."

She waves a hand, dismissively. "Since I have not done anything of the sort, you answer your own question." She feigns a yawn.

"Very well, and since you are understanding of our relationship I am sure you will be willing to extend at least meager aid toward my investigation."

At his request, she arches an eyebrow, her expression darkening in the slightest. "I am quite understanding of our relationship, which is why I am curious as to why would would ask for aid you are not owed." With a hint of anger, she continues, "Especially, aid towards a cazzo lurida Cappadocian."

A dark smirk spreads on the Lasombra's face at her retort. "I ask for aid not for my sake, or his sake, but yours. Simply, it is common enough knowledge the two of you sought each other's destruction that most will need no further persuasion of your involvement. Choosing not to so much as provide evidence you were not at fault only cements your guilt in the matter, and even I cannot hold back the forces of the Black Hand or Harbingers should they choose to extract vengeance for a fallen comrade." The shadows in the room flicker and dance wildly in response to their master's tirade.

"My sake?" Her temper igniting, she rises from the couch, rigid with anger. Unseen to Viktor, two wraiths that contrast starkly in appearance, mirror each others stance. They hover near the Lasombra, prepared to act at their mistress's request. "If I sought that piece of filth's destruction, he would of been dead the moment he hobbled his way into my domain. Do not...do NOT come into my home with your idle warnings when you owe me the very air you draw into your lungs to threaten me with." Ignoring his shadows, and obvious physical prowess he has over her, Karina stands toe to toe with the Viktor. "Your people think I was involved? YOU convince them otherwise." Her tone is acidic as she spits her words at him.

"Are you saying you did not seek his destruction, then, Donna Karina?" He cocks his head to the side, smile widening as her anger becomes more apparent. "It is by your power I exist, yes, but such an oath of words pales to the oath of blood the Sword prospers by. I do not expect you would not seek the same as I do now were our positions reversed." Tendrils of abyss trace the floor, circling the two like sharks on the verge of a feeding frenzy.

"I did not seek his destruction, but I could barely even feign to give a fuck if someone else did." Her words are a growl, as she glares into his eyes."Were our positions reversed, you would be dead for even being suspected. Be glad the situation is what it is, instead. Now stand. Down." she orders.

"Are you saying I would be justified in your destruction then, Donna Karina? A strange thing to confess at this juncture." He laughs, though the gaze he meets her with reflects her own malice. "I can see your beast behind your eyes, Donna. Should I find such a thing unbecoming or ravishing?" There is no change to his shadows or stance.

"That is for you to decide, Viktor." Her expression betraying no hint of fear. "You seek my destruction? Per favore, effettuare la fretta." She spreads her arms, inviting him to act.

"I seek the life of the one who destroyed a brother in arms. If you had the deed done or are actively preventing me from finding his assassin I can consider you nothing but an enemy. So enough games." His face hardens as he stares into the girl's eyes, his voice becoming heavy with subliminal authority. "Tell me what you know about Tanner's destruction." The wraiths become tense, seeing his intent. After a moment of engaged concentration, Karina's eyes widen and her lip lifts in a snarl. She barks out a command in Italian, and they are suddenly accompanied by the two wraiths. The lanky, dark haired fellow gestures in the Lasombra's direction. The couch goes flying, missing him by a scant amount.

Viktor lets out a barking laugh and lifts his hands, even as the abyss writhes beneath the two kindred.

"My my, such a violent response over a simple question, Donna Karina. Though I find your brutal honesty refreshing. Shall I expect another attack?"

The door flies open to bounce against the wall, and Bernito enters the room, withdrawing a stick of iron from his coat. "Senseless knaves! Who draws!?" Unmanifested, Jackie Boy trails in after him, the boy's face stricken at the sight of potential violence.

As if oblivious to the additions to the room, Karina hisses with anger. She draws her hand back, striking Viktor across the cheek."You dare? YOU DARE assault me in my own home?" Her voice climbs to a shout. "I ought to claw your eyes from their fucking sockets!"

Viktor smirks in response, plucking a tooth from between his lips. "I dare inquire as to your involvement in the death of an ally and am struck in response. I expect no less from Donna Karina." This time it is he who stands open armed. "If that is your will, my lady."

Bernito stands his ground, gesturing in the air as he stares at the pair. "I need to know why their is a disturbance to my home."

Not moving her eyes from Viktor, Karina growls a response. "Yes, why don't you fling the same threats and accusations at all the Giovanni under this room. È idiota del cazzo."

Bernito's voice comes again, low and dangerous, even in it's calmness. "What. Happened."

"It is as I said. I inquired as to the Donna's involvement in the assassination of a brother in arms, to which offense was taken and spirits conjured to retaliate."

Karina's blue eyes appear stormy, as she rages. "Retaliation after your failed attempt to dominate a truth out of me, in alternative to the one I gave you. How fortunate that your mental competence in domination is as lacking as your intimate talent in the same."

Bernito's hand stills, it's partner still clutched around the Bastone. "Viktor, did you assault the mind of Karina Rosselini?"

With a false casualty, Viktor responds, "I asked a question. If stern words constitute a mental assault then I do not deny my tone was rather coarse."

Displeased with his answer, Bernito pushes forward. "We're all in the know, Viktor Abendroth formerly Ambassador of the Sabbat, please answer my question before I am forced to repeat the tactics you're accused of."

Karina, rife with bloodlust and fury, clenches her fists at her side as she awaits Viktor's response. "As I am your guest I would be a fool not to submit to whatever interrogation you deem necessary."

"Wonderful. Karina, call Renaldo, Bruno, Regina, Brunantoni, Thomas, and Salvatore to us. I require their assistance." As he completes his statement, a wraith manifests. "Wonderful, yes. Please collect my Judas Cradle from the basement and have the guards block the doors until both Thomas and I give the signal to open them."

Karina retains a final glare at the Lasombra, before turning on her heel and exiting the room without a second glance, the last sound she hears being Bernito's sigh. The wraiths follow Karina as she makes her way through the manse, rousing her family. She takes a detour at her bedroom, pulling the scythe from it's display on her wall and turning to her youngest wraith, speaking to him with authority. "Jackson. Take this, and stay on your side of the shroud. Be prepared to hand it to me, when I ask." Jackie Boy complies, his small form dwarfed further by the hefty weapon. Vincenzo enters the room, his expression silently inquiring. Karina ignores him, sending a text to Renaldo. Her phone vibrates with an incoming message from Bernito directly after. She looks up at her ghoul. "Bernito has alerted the affiliates of Viktor's survival. For his sins, the Bishop will meet his final death in this manor." Her expression breaks from it's facade of neutrality, portraying disappointment, excitement and betrayal, in turn. Just as quickly, her face is cleared of emotion as she turns her attention back to her phone, typing: Your assistance is requested in handling a dispute. She sends the text to Blair, Caleb and Brie and heads downstairs to await the arrival of the trio of Kindred.

Adjoining her family, she stands near Bruno, ignoring the curious looks from he and the other clan mates. In no time, Renaldo and Blair arrive. Karina orders Vincenzo to lock the door unless the others arrive. The ghoul unbuttons his suit coat, exposing a pistol in a shoulder holster and nods, as she turns to the inquisitive audience. "Viktor is to be killed, tonight."

Blair is the first to react, blinking and shrugging. "Aye? What for?"

Karina explains to those present in a low, angered tone. "Abendroth came to the manor, requesting to speak with me. He proceeded to accuse me of being involved with his pack mate's disappearance, threatening me with retaliation from the Sabbat. Despite my denial, and the fact that I owns his fucking life, he attempted to use Dominate to get an answer from me."

Blair takes in a sharp breath and whistles. "So he is Japan and you are America. Haha... he's fucked."

Karina ignore the Brujah's humor, continuing, "Unfortunately, due to Viktor's lack of intelligence, and actions against me, he is to be executed."

At her side, Bruno pipes up, "Hm..." he shrugs. "Alright then."

Renaldo nods. "Normally I would advise restraint. Not tonight. This needs to be done. Now."

Karina stares up at the second floor landing as she grits her teeth, growling under her breath. "L'idiota del cazzo."

Blair adds in her assent. "Aye. He broke a pretty big hospitality rule as far as Aye'm concerned. Do whatcha want. You covered me and aye'll cover you. Aye dun think Bernito saying he was alive was helpful but ah well. He made his point."

"This will be yet another manner in which to push Bernito into the Commission seat." Karina clenches her fists, face growing darker. Without a word, she briefly disappears into another room. Sounds of things crashing and breaking can be heard.

Upon her re-entrance, Renaldo inquires: "Do we know where to find him?"

Karina replies, "He has not left the house, and he will not do so, alive."

Nodding in agreement, Bruno slides on his brass knuckles and adds: "Yeeeep. We're just waiting for 'em to come back downstairs at this point."

The Brujah grins as she checks her guns and ammo, "Aye? Take it ya want muh help. Haha. Alrigh'" Renaldo begins to check the magazines and slides of the two SMGs on his hip, then a second pair concealed in his suit, and finally the magazine of a golden engraved Desert Eagle. Blair's eye catches the golden engraved DE and she approaches the Don, inspecting it. "Tha's quite lovely Ren."

"It was a gift. I only bring it out for special occasions. This seems fitting enough."

Blair nods with a grin. "Aye, not a bad way to go about it. I'd be jealous but my pretties are just as nice. Haha." She nudges him on the shoulder in a friendly manner, then goes back to where she was.

Karina impassively watches each person prepare their weapons."As long as you are all aware that in no way is he to leave this house alive. Not staked. Not handed over to an Investor or Affiliated for trial. Dead."

The group nods, Blair commenting, "Wee-one... killing is easy keeping them alive is harder, buwhahaha."

Bruno laughs with her, adding ,"Give me somethin' hard next time."

An upstairs door opens, and Bernito and Viktor come into sight. In a quiet tone, the young girl commands,"Do not act until Bernito orders it."

Karina watches the pair come down the stairs with a barely contained fury. Bernito leads Viktor down the stairs, speaking to the group. "Mr. Abendroth was just leaving. He'll be apologizing to Karina, and then will be taking his leave." Karina turns her glare to Bernito ever so briefly before returning it to Viktor as she approaches him. He keeps his attention firmly ahead, meeting no one's gaze. Karina stops in front of the Lasombra, staring up at him. Viktor silently ignores the girl's presence. Bruno stands off to Bernito's side, arms folded over his chest. He just sniffs loudly, looking between Karina and Viktor. At the bar, Blair grabs a drink, raises it and nods at Viktor. She then takes a sip smiling. Bernito places his hand on Bruno's left shoulder. "I don't think there's going to be a problem tonight, amico." To Viktor, Bernito says, "Just get the apologies done with so we can be done and gone with the disturbances this night."

Still ignoring Karina, Viktor looks to Bernito. "May I speak, then?"

Bernito nods, "Please."

Finally directing his attention to Karina, Viktor recites: "Donna Karina Rosselini, on behalf of the Sword of Caine and Clan Lasombra, I apologize for underestimating your mental fortitude and not giving you the respect deserving a leader of the Giovanni clan."

Karina nods, her face showing a battle between anger and impassivity. "Gratzi, Viktor." In an almost affectionate manner, she places two fingers at the Lasombra's chin, rising on her toes to graze a kiss upon his lips."Le tue ceneri saranno in la più bella dalla mia collezione, Signore Abendroth." She lowers back onto her heels, stepping away from him and the group. Over by the door, Karina's ghoul unlocks the door and slips outside.

Bernito seems pleased. "That's all we needed, friend." He looks to Bruno and extends a hand to shake. "Everything is going to be all right."

Viktor ignores the hand. "Shall I take my leave then, Lord Bernito?"

Bruno nods to Bernito, gripping his hand tightly with his left, but the right suddenly whipping around in a wide wide. A big, meaty, brass knuckle rimmed fist arching for the side of Viktor's head. It connects, flaying the flesh of the Lasombra's cheek. Blair laughs from her spot near the bar, whipping her guns out and firing with empty words of apology on her grinning lips. The bullets miss Viktor by a hairsbreadth, as the damage inflicted to him knits itself back, leaving a much smaller hole in Viktor's face then there was moments ago. He keeps his attention on Bernito as the shadows in the room flock to the Lasombra. His eyes glow red as the darkness surrounds his body, leaving a pitch black silhouette like a human-shaped hole in the world. The shape speaks, "I ask again. May I take my leave?" His words are drowned out by the deafening crash of gunshots as Renaldo pulls a gun from each side, firing into the wooden chairs by the bar. The chairs engulf in flames. From behind the bar, Karina snaps her fingers at a tall, dark haired wraith. Cuthbert manifests, gesturing at the flaming chairs as the lift into the air and head towards Viktor. Alain manifests across from the other wraith, and with a glance at Viktor, conjures a ring of flames around the Lasombra. The wraiths grin at each other. Viktor's red eyes blink, even as Blair fires again, the bullets seeming to go right through him without hindrance. The front door opens, Brie and Vincenzo entering. The ghoul locks the door as the Brujah rushes to Karina's side, drawing her gun and leveling it at Viktor. Despite the flying bullets and flames, the young girl seem amused. In the middle of the fray, Viktor finally turns his attention to Blair. "Please use your firearm against the butler until he dies," he commands, gesturing toward the ghoul. Any amusement falls from Karina's face. Unseen by the other occupants of the room, she looks to Vincenzo with an expression of unadulterated terror. Viktor's shadows creep from his body, encircling Cuthbert as the wraith shrieks, losing his control on the chairs. On the other side of the shroud, Jackie Boy runs under Cuthbert's falling, flaming chairs, to stand in front of Vincenzo, scythe in hand. Blair's attention doesn't waver from the Lasombra, as she and Renaldo fire at him. Renaldo's shot hits Viktor, and he smirks, blood leaking from his mouth. "Good shot." Karina points at her ghoul with a shaking hand, directing him away from the room while the others are distracted. Bernito draws his hand back, his fingers clenching on thin air and jerking forward as he hurls a bolt of pure oblivion from the Shadowlands. It hits Viktor as he attempts to wipe his mouth clean. Another spray of bullets from Blair knocks the Lasombra to the ground. His clothes and body smolder, as he turns his gaze to Karina, speaking loudly over the gunshots."Wir sehen uns in der Hölle, Liebhaber." Bruno hits him with an uppercut, bringing his attention away from the youngest Rosselini as she attempts to pull us a translation on her phone.

Renaldo yells to Karina as he shoots again, "He said see you in hell."

She watches Viktor collapse, her soft voice heard in the silence of his defeat. "Conta su di esso, vescovo." Bernito steps through the shroud, phasing through the air and arriving at the bar to pick up a flaming chair leg. He steps through again to Viktor, and inserts the flaming piece into his chest with ease, his own hand burning as he hefts the Lasombra to his feet. Off his niece's glare, he cuts his wrist, using the blood to douse the flame.

Blair, stowing away her weapon, walks over to the bar and pours a drink. Sensing the battle at it's final extent, Bruno and Renaldo quickly join her. Brie lowers her gun, appearing out of place and slightly perplexed. Bernito speaks to the room. "So, what now?"

Karina slaps her palm onto the bar top, her wraiths quickly turning attention to her."What the fuck are you doing?"

Bernito seems unfazed as he answers, "Staking him so that he doesn't just get back up in a few nights."

Renaldo gesture with his glass, shaking his head. "I'm an advocate of restraint up until someone tries to fucking discipline an acting Donna. He cannot survive this engagement."

Blair nods, "Just kill him... it's what the Wee-one wants."

Karina comes around from the bar, staring at Bernito incredulously as he retorts, "I wasn't aware that the wee-one was the master of my home."

Blair smiles at him and shrugs. "He does owe her his life. Yer house and all, though."

Approaching Bernito and the staked Viktor, Karina reaches across the shroud, wresting the scythe from Jackie Boy's hands. She points to Viktor with her free hand. "He is to die. Will you stand in the way of this, Uncle?"

Bernito peers at her over the Lasombra's stationary body. "Death isn't something I will ever prevent someone from achieving, my niece. I will have this event recorded, however, for progeny."

She waves the hand not holding the scythe in a dismissive manner. "Non mi interessa che cazzo tu fare. I'm taking his head." At the bar Blair pours herself another drink.

"Se Ero preoccupato per la tua opinione , avrei chiesto. Bere il suo sangue."

Karina's expression reflects disgust and objection. "Non voglio che lordura nelle mie vene. Stand aside and let me take his life."

Bernito doesn't move."Se non fate questo , sono sicuro che qualcuno lo farà. The cycle will be ended. Here."

Ignored by both Rosselini, Blair looks at Renaldo. "What is Main-Man Giovanni and Wee-one sayin'?"

Renaldo chuckles. "Family dispute. I'm not getting involved."

"Aye can tell -that- much." She shrugs and watches, while sipping on her drink. Alain and Cuthbert, still manifested, come over to sit by Blair and Renaldo. "Oi, sup Gents." Blair says in greeting.

Cuthbert nods in greeting, Alain pats Blair on the back, replying "Hey, miss Blair."

Blair blinks at Alain. "It's jus' Blair Mate. Once again the only Miss in this room is the Wee-one."

Away from the bar, Karina's voice raises with her temper's increase. "La sua vita non appartenga a loro. It belongs to me. Mi permetta di prendere esso."

In an uncommon tone of irritation, Bernito responds, "Poi prendere la sua vita. Assicuratevi di non tornare nel ciclo della creazione. You will devour him or you will let him be an example to others in our Domain."

Her hand clenches tight around the scythe, her blue eyes boring into Bernito's. "His death will be an example to the domain. Stand aside, Bernito. He is mine."

Returning his niece's glower, Bernito drops the stake body, kicking it into a wall, shattering the bar nearby Renaldo and Blair. "Do whatever you want, e ottenere tutte queste persone fuori da casa mia. Tell them I want that seat. Bernito turns to leave. "And kill him outside my fucking doors." he calls out over his shoulder as he goes up the stairs.

Staring ahead to where he was standing, Karina orders Alain and Cuthbert to take the body outside. "Bene." she says, quietly. Sending the wraiths back in, she stands over Viktor's body, alone. Her face is eerily calm, almost introspective. She speaks to the lifeless corpse, leaning on the scythe. "Una siffatta uomo stolto. Tale spreco. Peccato, Signore Abendroth. You had such potential." With a twist of her hands, she slashes downward with the scythe, detaching Viktor's head from his neck. She watches as his body turns to ash, kneeling down to collect her share.

She comes back into the manor with her scythe and ashes. Addressing the Kindred audience, she speaks in a level voice. "I suggest those of you not a part of the family take your leave. We appreciate your assistance in the matter. Please help yourself to his ashes, before the servants dispose of them."

Blair looks around. "Aye, that'd be me. Good night then." Blair kills her drink and begins to walk out. Brie follows, stowing her gun in it's holster.

"I'll be in touch Blair, Brie." Karina confers briefly with Renaldo after he returns with his own portion of Viktor's remains, extending an invite to stay around the manor. "I would, however, give Uncle Bernito some time to...calm himself." Several loud bangs and a steady pounding can be heard from a second level room. She heads upstairs to her bedroom, hanging the scythe on the wall. On a shelf above her couch, Karina places the vial of ashes alongside five others like it, pausing to admire the sight. Crossing the room and entering her private wash room, she unzips her dress and allows the smoke smelling garment to fall to the tile. She perches on the edge of the grand tub, spinning the cold water tap only. As the water level rises, she strips each stocking from her thighs and removes the clip from her hair. Tub full, she turns the faucet off and enters the frigid water. Her curls dampen and darken as she leans her head back, closing her blue eyes to the sound of anguished wails permeating the walls of her chamber.


	19. Chapter 19

**October of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Two gentleman make their way towards the cul-de-sac driveway of the Rosselini manor, each with still-warm deer corpses hefted over their shoulders. The fair haired gentleman turns his face towards his companion as they walk. "What d'you think the kid wants with these?"

The darker haired man shrugs, the corpse joggling as he does so. "Who knows. Maybe she's got a taste for venison." Both men snort laughter that trails off once in earshot of the manor. Two sets of eyes scan the yard, spotting their mistress and making a beeline for her location.

Under a canopy of a sprawling white oak, Karina kneels on a drab colored cloth among a scattering of ominous looking tools. The young girl's eyes are closed, her face appearing almost serene. She doesn't open her eyes to acknowledge the wraiths approach, simply ordering them to place the deer on the ground. The wraiths shift nervously after complying, unsure of Karina's subsequent wishes. Sensing their presence still hovering about, her blue eyes snap open to level a stare at the gentleman. "Make yourselves scarce." Not needing a second demand, Alain and Cuthbert fade into the Shadowlands and retreat.

Karina is still for several moments, the only movement being the tremble of her curls in the slight autumn breeze. Finally reaching forward, Karina rests her palm upon the pelt of the closest carcass, letting the heat warm her frigid skin. Her other hand grasps a heavy saw. Bringing the blade to the throat of the dead deer, she begins sawing. Blood dulls the shine of the blade, as the deer's head is severed from it's shoulders. Karina lifts the dripping head and sets it aside, eradicating the remaining body with a wave of a hand. She repeats the process with the other deer, but leaves the third whole. Arms coated in blood to the elbows, the young girl appears to be wearing a set of crimson opera gloves. Nonchalantly wiping her hands on the fabric of her dress, she draws the untouched corpse closer and picks up a small scalpel. Matching incisions are cut into the sides of the neck, close to the shoulders. Trading scalpel for forceps, the incision is widened and gaped open. Karina lifts one of the heads, placing the exposed spine and muscle on top of the open wound. Holding the head in place with one hand, she seizes a curved needle and nylon suture and begins to stitch through the pelt, attaching the head to the shoulder. Pausing only long enough to clear her hands of blood once more, she mirrors her work on the other shoulder. When the work is finished, Karina casts her tools aside, rising from her knees to view her creation.

She observes briefly, before grabbing a shovel from beside the oak tree. With a long suffering expression, seen by no one, she begins digging into the dying grass and dirt. Her progress continues until she is chest deep in the crater, Heaving the shovel out of the hole, she braces her palms on the edge of the dirt, lifting herself out. Immediately, she turns to the three headed deer corpse, hefting it with some effort and dumping the body into the hole. Retrieving the shovel once more, she showers fresh soil upon her creation, tamping the ground flat as the hole is filled. Her dress and skin stained with dirt and animal blood, the young girl leans against the shovel, as if exhausted. Karina places the shovel on the ground gently, brushing her hands off and standing upon the soft soil. Her eyes close as she raises her hands over the grave. An almost melodic chant quietly comes from her lips, as the serene expression crosses her youthful features. She remains in place, chanting, for over an hour. The air is significantly chilled as she retreats back into the manor, sending Vincenzo out to retrieve her things as she sheds her filthy garments.

Returning to the grave the next three consecutive nights, Karina repeats the process of chants and rumination. Under Obfuscate and hidden from the young girl's view, Alain and Cuthbert watch her procedure with a tentative curiosity. On the final night, after an hour of chanting, Karina steps back from the grave, and expectant expression on her face. The wraiths share inquiring glances with each other as a spectral figure seems to rise from the ground, leaving the soil undisturbed. Manifesting fully, the creature's hoof paws at the ground, cleaving at the dirt. Three sets of black velvet eyes stare in docility towards Karina. From their spot in the mushroom garden, the wraiths gape. Alain opens his mouth to exclaim, Cuthbert slapping a quick hand over it to stifle the sound. One of the deer's heads focuses on the pair, despite their hidden presence. Cuthbert pulls his companion away through the garden, aware of the creature's following gaze. The watchful head huffs out a grunt at their departure. Oblivious to this display, Karina continues to gaze at her creation with wide eyes. Her hand reaches out, daintily resting on the withers of the deer. The heads focus on her once more, as her lips turn up into an ersatz smile. This false display of emotion is short lived, as the spectral, Cerberus deer seems to flicker like a faulty light bulb. It retains it's form for a moment, before evaporating like the fog of warm breath in cold air. Karina's hand hangs in place, clenching into a fist when the creature fails to return. Her arm falls to her side as her face retains it's stoic demeanor.

Turning on her heel, the young girl heads back to the piazza. Seated on the steps, Vincenzo folds his newspaper and casts an inquiring glance towards Karina. "Un fallimento." The ghoul's expression turns sympathetic, even as his mistress waves a dismissing hand. "Si tratta solo una battuta d'arresto. I have a copious amount of time to perfect the ritual."

Vincenzo nods. "I have no doubt of your abilities, Miss Karina."

She levels a steely gaze to him. "Save your flattery. I wish to visit my cemetery. It has been some time since I have frequented it for recreational means." Her expression remains impassive, though her eyes maintain a cruel glint. "Have Cuthbert, Jackson and Mr. Gray join us."

Vincenzo nods once more, replying to her retreating form as Karina makes her way down the driveway to the Mercedes. "Yes, Miss Karina."


	20. Chapter 20

**October of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

A young man stands at a tombstone, under the light of a waxing moon. The carved name on the stone is fresh, the date only weeks prior to this night. He is dressed well, albeit his mussed hair and unshaven face. He squats down, expression calm as he places a bouquet of flowers among those already resting against the headstone. His quivering fingers lightly stroke the granite, the calm expression crumbling as he buries his head in his hands. Unseen, a trio of beings grow near. The young girl looks to the grim faced man to her left, and he gives her a curt nod. To the dark haired gentleman to her right, she hands a cell phone. The grim faced man and the dark haired gentleman fall back, as the young girl seems to materialize from the chill of the night, itself. She approaches the man at the grave, her footsteps unheard over his sobs. She stands behind him silently, her expression blank as she reaches out to set her hand on his shoulder. Startled, he cries out, falling against the headstone. Looking up to the source of his alarm, his mouth opens to perhaps reprimand the child. Taking in her pale skin, her posture, and the complete lack of humanity in her countenance, his mouth snaps shut. The ethereal figure holds out her hand in aid. Hesitant, the young man clasps it. Her skin is ice cold, and she shows no struggle as she helps him to his feet. His hand steals out of it's own accord, gently grazing her dark curls. "What are you?" he whispers.

Karina peers up at him, her blue eyes meeting his. "Your liaison between morte e la vita." She looks away from him, for just long enough to glance at the headstone behind him. "I speak for your Lillian."

The man inhales sharply, his hand falling to the headstone. "What? What are you talking about?" Karina sighs lightly, clasping her hands behind her. Before his eyes, the young girl changes. Her body seems to mature and grow in height. The dark curls turn to soft blond strands that fall just below her jaw. The cold blue eyes turn a deep brown.

At the sight of the woman before him, the man's mouth opens in shock. "My god! Lillian...Lily, how? He steps forward, and in the same moment the illusion is broken, The young once more stands before him. "No!" Tears well in his eyes. "Please, bring her back..."

Karina shakes her head, her expression grave. "That is not how it works, Evan. Even a sciocca dell'uomo should know that." She strokes the side of his face with the back of her hand.

The man, Evan, rubs at his face where she touched. His voice comes out like a sickened moan. "I don't understand any of this. Am I dreaming?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Karina responds "You are not dreaming, not asleep, and you only have one chance to be reunited with your love."

He blinks in confusion. "Reunited?", he inquires.

"Lillian is here. She waits for you, on the other side."

Tears begin their trail down the young man's cheeks. "My Lily, please let her talk to me!"

The young girl shakes her head, once more. "I am not what stands in the way. You are."

"I just want to see her again."

At that statement, a forced smile comes to Karina's lips. "And so you can. She wants to see you, too. Do you understand what you must do to achieve this?"

The man's brow furrows. "No? I..."

At his response, Karina lifts the side of her dress, just high enough to pull the pearl gripped pistol from her thigh holster. She turns the gun, stock facing away, offering it to the man. "Do you understand now?"

He swallows, hard in his throat, his hands twitching at his sides. "I'll be with her again? I have your word?" Still presenting the pistol, Karina nods. The man's expression seems to harden. He raises his hand to inches away from the offered weapon.

The young girl urges him further, "It is what you have to do to continue your life with her. End your grief. Release this existence."

His fingers touch the steel briefly before the resolve in his face dissolves. The tears begin to fall in earnest. "I can't. I can't do it. I love her, but this isn't right."

Unperturbed, Karina lowers the hand with the gun to her side. "Sei debole." The young girl peers over the man's shoulder, giving a slight nod to their unseen guests.

"I'm so sorry, Lillian." The man sobs, face in his hands.

Karina steps close to him, stroking his hair with her free hand. "Shh. Shh. She understands. It's alright, Evan." The man embraces Karina, as she continues her crooning and comforting, oblivious to her other hand creeping between them. She pulls away a small fraction. "She still loves you." The man smiles at the young girl, until he feels the cold circle of the gun barrel against his chin. There is no time for him to react before she pulls the trigger, his blood splattering across her face. The body falls to her feet. Replacing her gun in it's holster with one hand, she flicks the other at the body, dispersing the remains into non existence. Across the shroud, Lt. Mann and Cuthbert accost the new wraith, pulling the caul from the bewildered man. Karina stares into the Shadowlands for a moment, meeting the man's eyes as they struggle to focus on her. "You fucking idiot." She directs her wraiths to bring him to the manor as she briskly makes her way out of the graveyard to Vincenzo's waiting Mercedes. Calling over her shoulder, she adds "And make sure Jackson hasn't fucked anything up with the guards."

The ride home is sedate and uneventful. Exiting the car, Karina and Vincenzo make their way up the driveway, to be met with a distressed Alain. The wraith manifests, palms out as if to stop the young girl's progress. "Miss Karina, while you were out..." He trails off, looking fearful. "There was...there is a visitor. He's in your room"

Karina raises a hand, and Alain flinches back. "You have five seconds to spit it out." Barely three seconds pass before the wraith drops to his knees, howling in agony. He catches his breath, speaking two words quietly. "Your father."


	21. Chapter 21

**August of 1924. Sicily, Italy.**

"You must speak to Barnabas at once. This is not an option, Benedict. If you wait to be sought out for your misdeeds, both Karina and yourself will suffer for it."

Benedict Rosselini looks to the ghoul, expression sullen and petulant as he swirls the liquid in his half empty glass. "Who is to say they would come seek us out at all?"

Vincenzo scowls at the man. "To think you can avoid punishment is to portray yourself as a fool. Admit your crime to the Anziani, and perhaps your daughter can escape impending destruction."

Benedict finishes his drink as Vincenzo's last statement seems to catch his attention. "Bene. I will go." He places his glass onto the table. "And what if they come after Karina? If they come into my home and try to take her? Will you protect her, old man?"

The ghoul's voice is hard and certain as he meets the Kindred's eyes with an unwavering gaze. "I will defend Karina with my life, not because you request it of me, but because she is an innocent in this plague of immorality." The two gentleman continue to stare each other down, at an impasse. After several moments, the younger appearing of the pair turns on his heel and stalks from the room.

Vincenzo's voice echoes down the hallway, his tone authoritative and instructive. Karina's voice responds, tentatively. In one of the mansion's rooms, the ghoul teaches the basics of Necromancy to the freshly sired young vampire. Noting the girl's trepidation, Vincenzo turns to the manifested wraith before them. "Marietta, you may leave." He puts his hand on Karina's shoulder, looking down at the young girl. "I think we need a recess."

Karina turns her gaze to the ghoul, expression grateful as she sinks down into the nearest chair. "Grazie, Vincenzo." She says in a weary voice, as her mother's spirit un-manifests, disappearing from Karina's view, into the Shadowlands.

The old man seats himself across from Karina, his attention focused on her. "It is still difficult for you?"

She nods, primly crossing her hands in her lap. "It is not physically difficult." She drops her gaze to her folded hands. "It is difficult to see her. My mother, with what I did to her."

Unseen by the young girl, Vincenzo's face appears almost angry. "You did what comes natural for what you are, now. And your mother was a..." he bites his comment off as her blue eyes meet his. "You will grow accustomed to it. The feeding, your power, it will take time."

Karina rises from her chair, her youthful visage already reflecting austerity beyond her years. She walks over to the window, glancing at her reflection, rather at the view of the grounds shrouded in darkness. "What will happen to Papa?"

Vincenzo remains seated, responding almost formally. "Benedict violated a decree in the most severe manner. He will be punished in a manner equivalent to the severity of his crime."

Karina drops her gaze to her feet, turning her head to keep her doleful expression from the ghoul's view. "And what will happen to the product of his transgression?"

Vincenzo frowns, reflecting on his earlier conversation with her father. He hesitates in his response. "Non mentire a me, Vincenzo."

The old man sighs, standing to join Karina at the window. "If the Anziani decide so, you will be destroyed." The young girl's shoulders sag. She keeps silent, but her expression seems to harden. Vincenzo places his hands on her forearms, gently turn her to face him. He doesn't command her attention, he simply waits for her eyes to meet his. "Do not think on it, Miss Karina. We will see you become a powerful Necromancer, deserving of respect. We will allow nothing to impede your potential."

Karina's blue eyes stare up at the ghoul. "I'm just a child."

He places a hand to her cheek. "No, signorina. Non mai più."

Placing her hand over his, Karina's expression changes slightly. Feeling the warmth of the ghoul's flesh, the light pulse of blood through veins, she pulls away abruptly. Pressing her lips together, she turns away from Vincenzo without a word. Ever vigilant, Vincenzo notices her behavior and moves to remove his suit jacket from the back of a chair, slipping it on. "Come, Miss Karina. It would be detrimental to us both, should you refrain from feeding any longer."

Unseen, Karina expression is one of revulsion. "I would prefer to go on my own, if I must."

The ghoul opens his mouth to refuse, before thinking better of it. His response sounds stiff. "If that is your intention."

"I will be prudent, Vincenzo." Karina notes his obvious misgivings. "Are you opposed to my request?"

"I am opposed to the possibility of you being in danger. However, I do not wish to hinder your independence."

Karina nods, and for a moment the ghoul seems relieved. She rises onto her toes to graze his weathered cheek with a kiss. "I will return before dawn." Before Vincenzo can remark, she is out of the room. He stands at the window for a few minutes, a concerned expression on his face as he watches Karina exit the house.

Within an hour, the young girl is walking quietly through the darkened streets of Modica. The hour is late, and the avenue is deserted save for the random late night wanderer. Karina keeps her head down, attempting to be as innocuous as an unattended young girl can be at this time of night. Her blue eyes dart back and forth, her expression torn between hunger and unease as she searches for a victim. With each passing Kine, she tenses, her beast clawing at her frail control. Just the same, each Kine passes by unscathed. Her brow furrows as she grows more and more distraught. Managing to fight down her hunger, she changes her route, commencing the trek back to her home. She crosses a collection of empty, run down apartments. Passing a shadowed alleyway, the young girl is yanked off her feet and dragged between buildings. A dirty hand covers her mouth, forcing a silence that was already present. "Hello there, pretty one." The voice rasping in her ear is harsh, the breath smelling of cheap brown bagged liquor. "Little girls shouldn't be alone so late, something bad might happen to em." He whips her around by the arm, swinging her into a brick wall. Karina stays, kneeling on the asphalt, breathing in the scent of her assailant.

She squeezes her eyes shut, indifferent to the potential threat the Kine has to offer. She hears the click of a switchblade or pocket knife and wraps her arms around herself. "Please," she whispers "Please." The unknown assailant chuckles, low in his throat, stepping closer to the young girl crumpled at his feet. "Begging for your life, pretty one?" Unseen by the man, Karina's face changes, her voice inhuman as she responds. "No." She rises to her feet, her eyes teeming with hunger. "Begging for yours." She pounces, knocking the inebriated man into the adjacent wall and sinking her teeth into the soft meat of his throat. Her fangs deep in his flesh, his attempted screams are reduced to a gurgling squawk. The young girl feeds until she is sated, almost gorged. Pushing the body away from her, she backs away, appearing horrified. Raising a hand to her face, she continues to stare at the corpse, as if trying to will it away. Her other hand twitches at her side, and she gasps as the corpse disintegrates before her eyes. Tearing her gaze from where her victim laid, Karina's expression becomes astonished. Peering around, Karina's eyes widen as she views her surroundings. Shadowy, moldering buildings seem superimposed over the existing structures. The young girl almost seems gratified until she looks to the wall across from her. Standing near where his body was, a shimmering apparition of the recently deceased man appears to the the young girl. His form seems to be coated in some sort of clear plasma, almost like lamination. A small sound of fear escapes Karina's lips. The figure reaches out towards her, and eyes wide, she flees the alley.

Rushing past the few stragglers here and there in the street, oblivious to their bewildered looks, Karina continues running until she reaches her home. She pauses in the foyer, once again seeing across the shroud, finally seeing her mother without the wraith manifesting. Marietta stares back at her daughter, her beautiful face cold and inexpressive. The wound on her throat gapes open, the edges raw and bloodless. Karina whispers,"Mama." The woman turns from her, moving further into the bleak surroundings in the Shadowlands. Vincenzo steps into the hall, only long enough to see Karina escape to her bedroom, the door shutting and locking with a sense of finality.


	22. Chapter 22

**November of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The room reeks of singed cloth and flesh, the odor seeming to crawl into ones nostrils and dwell there. Wounds healing even as Litanny cleans and dresses them, Thomas stands in the entrance hall in his smoldering suit. His face a grave mask, Bernito chastises the young priest as the ghouls and servants take pains to secure the manor. Karina stands a fair distance from her family, lips pressed into a thin line and blue eyes wide as they dart back and forth. Her expression fluctuates from it's customary impassivity, to barely contained outrage. Unmanifested, her horde of wraiths shift and pace uneasily, feeding off the tension in the room. She presses a clenched fist to her mouth, gaze finally settling on Thomas. As if only just now comprehending the danger her idolized cousin faced less than an hour ago, a rare show of dismay crosses her features. The young girl's fists clench tighter, and she abruptly turns heel and withdraws to her room.

Leaning forward over her desk, she presses her hands flat to the wood, teeth grinding together as she combats her emotions. Her eyes flick to the urns on her mantle, her violin, her paintings. Nothing seems to bring calm to her. Karina's expression becomes ghastly, her beast glaring through her child's visage. Tentatively, her wraiths file in. She pries a hand from the desk and broadly gestures to the gentleman, more than half fall and gasp in agony, the other scattering away from her wrath. "Get out." Her voice is rough and tremulous with vehemence. The room empties and Karina squeezes her eyes shut, unneeded breaths forcing through her lungs. She hears the creak of floorboards and the sense of yet another presence in the room. Without looking up, she draws her pearl gripped pistol from it's holster, pointing it unwaveringly towards the intruder. In the doorway, Vincenzo raises his hands in passivity. Karina opens her eyes, sparing a glance for the ghoul. The gun in her hand does not lower. "Call Renaldo and Leone. Inform them of the situation. Warn them of peril that comes with leaving their havens." She purses her lips briefly, clutching the pistol. "Contact Blair, Valik, Samuel and Charles, as well." Vincenzo swallows, an audible sound of fear that brings his mistresses attention on him. Her fangs extend as she glares at him. "NOW." Without a word or lowering of his hands, the ghoul retreats quickly. Tossing the gun onto the desk, Karina walks over to the open door, grasping the knob and pulling it shut with a strained delicacy.


	23. Chapter 23

**November of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

A motorcycle roars up the road, stopping at the closed gate of Rosselini manor. Jackie Boy and Cuthbert stand outside, eyeing the new arrival suspiciously. It appears to be Blair, Consigliere of Bartertown, but despite the recognition, the wraiths leave the gate chained shut. The older wraith approaches the Brujah. "How do we know it's actually you?"

Irate, Blair responds, "Tha fuck ya mean if it's me, Mate?" She revs her motorcycle. "Oi, outta tha way."

The wraith shakes his head. "Can't do that. Not until we check." He pushes the smaller wraith forward.

Clad in overalls, Jackie Boy stares up at Blair. "Pick your nose next time you lie." His voice, though young and innocent, has a strong sense of command to it. The young boy waits a minute, then asks "Are you actually Blair?"

Agitated, the Brujah growls, "Aye, ya wee cunt." Her hands stay on the bike's handlebars.

Jackie Boy looks disappointed for a moment, but then smiles brightly. "Hey, Blair!"

Cuthbert shakes his head at the kid, opening the gate and moving aside to allow the motorcycle through. "Sorry about that. Gotta protect the little lady."

She revs the bike and goes through the gate as it opens."Aye aye..." Pulling into the cul-de-sac, she parks, checks herself over and then goes to knock on the door.

Vincenzo answers. "Miss.." he catches himself, smiling "..ahem. Blair. Welcome."

She grins, widely. "Ullo, Vinny-boy. Where the Wee-Donna?" The ghoul pats her on the shoulder, leading her upstairs and down the hallway to Karina's study.

Lounging on the antique sofa, the young girl looks up, slightly surprised at Blair's unexpected presence. She immediately stands and approaches the Brujah silently. Examining the other woman from head to toe, Karina touches one of several holes in Blair's shirt. "What the hell did you do?"

Blair rolls her eyes at Karina. "Aye went skinny dippin' Wee-one" As the words leave her mouth her finger automatically makes it's way into her nostril. "Oi! That little cunt!" Karina raises an eyebrow, her head cocked to the side in a caricature of curiosity. Blair groans and moves to get a drink. "Hunters... damn near killed 'em. Fucks ran when they realized aye'd crouched down. The one musta been hurt enough that they gave up." She chugs the drink, and then sits down removing her jacket and showing the wound in her chest and the one on her shoulder. "Don't ya dare baby me, Karina..."

Listening to her explain, Karina's eyes narrow. She allows the Brujah to chug her drink before commenting. "You know me better than to assume I would baby you." Her nose wrinkles in distaste at the term. "What the fuck made you think it was an intelligent idea to traipse around the city when there are Hunters running rampant? Hubris is commendable Blair, but there is a time and a fucking place for that."

Again, Blair rolls her eyes. "How the fuck else am aye supposed to get places? Slink around like aye'm some rat? An' aye am fine. They ran like bitches, they thought they could just 'burn me'. Like aye'm stupid enough not to smell the fuckin' gas..." She takes a swallow from her glass. "And ya just did baby me, Mum."

The young girl narrows her blue eyes at Blair. Tossing her hair over her shoulders almost arrogantly, she pours herself a drink. "Troppo sicuro di sé cagna." she says, not unkindly. Blair just smiles, winking at her. "Would ya have me any other way, piccolo?"

Karina rolls her eyes, seating herself and leaning against the arm of the couch. "Come. Sit." She gestures to the cushion next to herself. "Did you learn anything of use regarding the Hunters?"

Blair wanders over after refilling her beverage and sits down. "They knew aye was coming... somehow, or they knew that Westwood is used by us a lot. An' they are smart enough to make traps. They weren't prepared enough for someone like me though. Figurin' that's why they ran, but ya know." She sighs, shaking her head and rolling the injured shoulder in it's socket. "Fuckers... couldn't even die like good sports. Burned the house they were using though."

Karina purses her lips, contemplating. When she speaks, it seems she is choosing her words carefully.

"That was perhaps two of a countless number of assassins trained singularly to kill our kind. They may not of been prepared this time...and even if you had killed them, more would replace them.." She stops, forcing air through her nose impatiently.

Blair watches the young girl closely, trying to decipher her actions. "Oi... come on ya know it wouldn't be THAT easy to get rid o' me. No need to worry." She nudges Karina gently, off the girl's standoffish look. "Aye know. They will probably be more prepared next time. Aye will just start taking one of the cars from the casino so my bike isn't noticed as much. They're smart enough to know when to run, not like those last hunters. Aye hope this plan of yours works, Wee-one. If not, aye have a few ideas."

Karina sips her drink, her face retaining stoicism once more."If my plan doesn't work, we will likely all be slaughtered." She doesn't seem perturbed by the idea. Continuing in a pompous tone,"Luckily, I've yet to experience the failure of one my own strategies."

"Aye, likewise. Aye have faith it'll work, and they'll have a hard time killing all of us. If things get rough, aye can grab ya an we can split ya know..." Blair's face isn't quite as stoic but it's not the kind of concern that one would have for a loved one, or a friend. "Aye haven't survived tha things Aye have to be taken out by humans."

Eyes unfocused, Karina runs a hand through her curls absently. "I suppose we will see, when the time comes." She takes a deeper drink from her glass. "If anything, this is certainly a tremendous show of cooperation for our domain. Perhaps it will be a good example to Baltimore."

"Aye." Blair follows suit in taking a drink. "Aye was shocked at how well our domain pulled together. Ya got a way with words, Wee-one."

"A way with words, and other manners of persuasion."

Blair grins, "Aye'm glad ta have ya here. Even if the fire lit beneath yer wee arse is revenge fueled. Heh..."

The young girl turns a sharp stare to the Brujah. "Revenge? I simply wish to protect my Domain."

Blair laughs raising her hands in a defensive way. "Aye, aye, and a bloody well good job ya doin'. Aye'll kill 'em all that pop their head around me. Aye might have to change my armor." Looking down and poking at the bullet hole in one shoulder, her finger comes away bloody. She stares at the blood for a moment. "Fuck, aye'm hungry." She groans shaking her head and looking harassed. "Aye knew I forgot something..."

With an insidious glint in her eyes, Karina reaches up into her hair, pulling a bobby pin from her curls. She snaps it in half and draws the jagged edge across her palm, parting the flesh. Willing blood to the wound, she holds it out to Blair and casually leans back against the cushion to gauge the Brujah's reaction. Blair stares long and hard at the vitae as it wells in Karina's palm. Hunger is readily apparent in the woman's expression. With the speed that was her gift, she grabs the dainty hand and put it to her lips. Tasting the young Giovanni's blood, pulling into her mouth and down her throat, Blair's eyes glaze over slightly, as she stares into Karina's widened eyes. After a moment, she pulls away completely, her lips moistened with the young girl's blood. "Oi... Kindred blood tastes fuckin' delightful..."

Peering at the other woman without expression, Karina reaches to her mouth, wiping a stray spot of blood away. "Waste not." she comments, licking her own blood from her thumb before retrieving her glass from the table and swallowing a mouthful of scotch.

Blair simply stares at Karina, almost awkwardly. After a second or two she gets up in a rush of speed, moving to the bar. pouring a drink, drinking it, then pouring another one. She expends a couple needless breaths for a few seconds before turning around and reclaiming her seat next to the young girl. "No offense but aye don't think aye will be doing that anytime soon again." Her voice steady but husky.

Karina watches Blair quietly, tapping her fingers against her glass. "Let's hope you do not need to." She takes a drink, tongue darting out to lick the residual liquor off her lip. "I would suggest staying at the manor for the day, Bernito would not be opposed, and it would be safer for you."

Blair takes a sip of her drink and then slowly nods. "Aye, that sounds like a good idea, aye'll message Mickster and let him know that aye'm here so he doesn't worry when aye don't show up to the casino or Speakeasy." She watches Karina's movements carefully, before catching herself and looking away, taking a drink. "Are ya sure ya have room and that Main Man Giovanni won't mind?"

Karina glances around the expansive study and back to Blair, eyebrows raise in an incredulous manner. "There is more than enough room, Blair. In case you have not noticed, the Giovanni enjoys luxury and space."

Blair smiles and laughs. "Aye aye... thanks."

The Brujah seems to relax a little bit, she takes another drink and then looks to Karina. "How are you faring with the Warden position?"

"Ask me the same question after this Fort Meade hit goes through." she replies, amused. "No one has seemed to take issue with it. I plan on utilizing the maximum amount of security for the next Swap Meet. The last thing we fucking need is trouble."

Blair nods. "Aye, if ya need some of my guards as well aye can loan them, but aye'm sure you'll be fine. With that Echidna thing over we should be fairly better in some ways. Once these hunters get balked back we should be golden. Aye swear the next fuckin' person who intentionally breaks the Masquerade like this...aye will kill them my damned self." Taking another sip she snarls a little. "We'll see soon enough. Aye wanna get Caleb cleared and just go back to gun running and stealing shit."

Karina looks vaguely curious."Caleb? Is he experiencing trouble?"

"Nay, he just owes one of those fuckin boon things to Grendel, and now that Caleb is in the Commission aye want him to repay it as quickly as possible. Alas, the Hunter's derailed that." She chews at her lip in frustration, clenching her fists a few times.

Karina's nose wrinkles at mention of the child Nosferatu. "We could just kill Grendel." she replies, casually.

"Oi, wouldn't that just piss of more of Baltimore?" Blair says, smiling.

"Pftt." Karina waves her hand dismissively. "He's of no use to them, anyway. Stupid child."

Blair stifles a laugh and then nods. "Aye, than he may get on the list if he causes any shit. He'd probably be even worse to find and get a hold of then that other one. Regardless, that needs to be dealt with when aye can. Fuckin' Hunters. It's not like we go on rampages and just kill millions of innocents..." Her face is placid as she says this, but her eyes are filled with laughter.

"From the way people act, you would think we do. Every vial on my mantel is someone who earned their fucking death."

"Aye but they are all Kindred. Granted, aye've killed my fair share of humans, but aye don't make it a point to kill them constantly, only Hunters who get in my fuckin' way."

"Kine have their uses. Whether as servants or nourishment. Perhaps slightly more uses to one with dead magic." Karina glances at the door, towards an unseen bodyguard.

"Aye. That's fair. Aye don't mind them usually. Working for the Mobsters back in the day was fun. They knew how to have a good time. Heh." She looks off into the study, unfocused. Quickly looking back at Karina, Blair blinks and then looks away again and takes a drink.

Karina taps her finger to her bottom lip, peering at Blair, studying her reactions. After a moment she rises from the couch, setting her empty glass on the end table. "Consigliere, if you will pardon me, there are still several loose ends I need to tie up. Vincenzo can show you the guest room, unless you wish to peruse the library or lounge."

"Nah. Guest room is fine with me." She empties her own drink, setting next to Karina's glass as she gets up. Winking at the young girl, she moves towards the door, yelling out: "Ooohhh Vinny-boy!" Down the hall a fraction, Vincenzo sits in an armchair, reading a newspaper. Her folds it and stands at the sight of the two women.

Following the Brujah out of the study, Karina casually comments,"My room is down the hall if you need anything, Blair." Karina rises onto her toes, placing her fingertips along Blair's jaw and kissing her lips chastely. Without another word, she turns and walks down the hall, disappearing into one of the rooms. As if oblivious to the the sight before him, Vincenzo gestures for Blair to follow to the guest room. Blair just stands there for moment appearing entranced by the touch and kiss. She watches Karina walk away, shaking her head. A low snarl escapes her throat, before she turns on her heel after the ghoul and closes herself in the guest room.


	24. Chapter 24

**November of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Deep blue eyes gaze to the darkened heavens. The chilled night air is pulled into dead lungs, as Karina makes her way past the mushroom garden to a spot of freshly turned earth under one of the many white oaks on the manor's grounds. The Donna revels in the first night to herself in some time. Valik resides in his new quarters, busying himself with arcane experiments, or whatever it is the Tremere does when alone. Blair has since departed, as did Charles. The corner of the young girl's lip quirks up in reminiscence of both her guests encounters. Vastly different, but with equally titillating outcomes. She shakes her head from side to side, as if to clear it, her curls bouncing against her shoulders. Focusing on the spot of earth, she stops at the edge of the mound, expression placid. Closing her eyes and raising her hands above the earth, she chants in her native tongue, the incantations fluently slipping from her lips.

After several repetitions, the ground creaks and seems to moan as something massive rises from the earth. Karina's eyes remain closed through the sound of soil being flicked and shaken from beast or being. There's a huff and a curious rumble of a growl. Eyes opening, the Giovanni sets her gaze on her creation. Rising on it's hind legs, towering over her, two of the black bear's three mouths roar into the sky. Undaunted, the young girl gives a sharp command to the creature as all four of it's paws drop to the ground. Three sets of eyes stare towards Karina with a mindless loyalty. She places a hand on the soft, dense fur of the creature's neck. The feel is solid, tangible, despite it's semi spectral existence. Pleased at the successful completion of her ritual, her hands stroke the Cerberus beast as she croons to it, softly. "Sei mia, Shardik. La mia bella bestia."


	25. Chapter 25

**December of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Returning safely to the Rosselini manor, Karina makes her way to her bedroom. Despite her wan and wounded appearance, the young girl's gait is steady, her head held up in confidence. Reaching her quarters, she turns to address her hoard of guardians. The singular Kindred in the assemblage stands almost awkwardly close to her. "Bruno. While I appreciate your adamant security, a modicum of privacy is desired tonight. I will call for you, should I need to leave the manor." The mook narrows his eyes at the Donna, his expression displeased. Karina rolls her eyes. "Or if I need to leave my bedroom, at all." He seems satisfied, retreating to his own quarters.

She turns to Vincenzo, disregarding the ghoul's look of prevalent concern. "Renaldo will be needing accommodations. See that he has adequate ones, when he arrives."

"Miss Karina." the ghoul speaks tentatively. "Perhaps I should.."

She gives him a sharp glare. "Perhaps you should follow my orders." With a reluctant nod, he departs. She sighs, needlessly through her nose, directing her attention towards her spirit slaves. "Patrol the grounds." She looks to the young boy and the lanky, dark haired gentleman. "Confirm the Don and his wraith's identity before allowing him entrance. Go." The silent, dark haired wraith whose eyes match her own hesitates in his exit. Karina's lip curls, and a sharp gesture brings the man to his knees in pain and hastens the other wraiths evacuation. "Soprattutto voi. Esci dalla mia vista."

She enters her room without a second glance to the wraith. A shuffle of movement comes from the corner of the room, and she looks to the spectral ursine creature as it shambles towards her. She caresses it's fur silently, her stiff posture seeming to diminish in the slightest. She speaks to it in a soft, yet commanding tone. "Shardik. Enforce the other's actions. Should Don Renaldo fail to prove his identity, or refuses to..." she continues to pet the three headed beast. "Kill him."

Once alone, the young girl locks the door and removes her garments and adornments, wrapping herself in a plush velvet robe. She pulls the neck of the robe tight, concealing the bloodless wounds upon her chest. All pretense of fortitude is discarded as the young girl reclines gingerly on her bed. She sets her cell phone within reach and turns to retrieve a large book from her nightstand. With a grimace, she pulls the book into her lap. Leaning her head back against the headboard, she clenches her jaw and eyes shut, a pained expression on her face. It is in that position that she stays, willing vitae to her wounds, healing until dawn approaches.


	26. Chapter 26

**December of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Karina kneels in one of the barren, unoccupied rooms of Rosselini manor. A stick of chalk is clenched in one delicate hand as she outlines a sigil onto the wood floor. Standing, brushing her hands off, she turns to the handful of wraiths that apprehensively await her command. She points towards the door. "Leave. All of you."

The lieutenant, stone faced and diligent, stands his ground. "Your own orders were to protect you in the prospect of peril, m'am. Is it wise to disregard those orders, while you experiment within the Shadowlands?" The other wraiths marvel at his audacity, flinching to themselves before hastily exiting the room. Karina simply peers at the lieutenant, her right fingers tapping the top of her thigh. Convinced of his mistresses decision, he gives a curt nod and follows after his compatriots, closing the door behind him.

Finally alone, Karina turns back to the scrawled sigil on the floor. She gestures, speaking in a low, almost sing song voice. The lines of the mark emit a faint glow, as the air in the room seems to grow heavier. The young girl stops chanting, stepping back, shoulders slumped as if fatigued. She remains stoic as she glances about the room. A spectral figure appears, the spirit of a young woman. At sight of the illuminated emblem, the woman's eyes grow wide, her expression crazed. With a nearly silent hiss of anger, the woman turns to necromancer in her midst. Before she can act, Karina intones a sharp chant, her Torment bringing the wraith to her knees. Karina turns, attention drawn in the opposite direction as an olive skinned man joins the pair in the room. His crazed, frenzied appearance matches the fallen wraith. He gestures towards the young girl, and an unseen bolt of energy knocks her into an adjacent wall, the plaster fracturing against her slight figure. Karina shouts another chant, successfully immobilizing her attacker as she climbs to her feet. Still expressionless, despite the bevy of assailants, Karina moves hastily towards the chalked emblem. Her path is blocked by a third wraith, the large man almost rabid in his appearance. She glares up at him, undaunted as she parts her lips to disable the wraith. Before she can speak, his large hand clamps around her throat, the muscles in his arm flexing as he lifts the young girl off of her feet. Despite the fruitless act of constricting air from dead lungs, Karina's countenance grows paler in her terror. Blue eyes wide, she claws ineffectively at the brute's hand clenched around her throat. Her legs dangle in the air as she's slammed into the wall once more. Karina is immobile as the wraith tightens his grip, fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to puncture. His other hand presses down on her shoulder, anchoring his grasp as if to separate head from neck. Behind them, the other two wraiths begin to regain their stability and approach the young Necromancer and her assaulter.

Across the room, the door slams open, bouncing against the wall. His weathered appearance forbidding, Vincenzo gestures towards the wraith grappling Karina with one hand, drawing his pistol with the other. The wraith releases Karina, and she crumples in a heap at his feet. A sharp report echoes in the room as the ghoul fires at the emblem on the ground, obliterating the majority of it. He casts another hand towards the wraith, as the brute howls in pain. The trio of spirits seem to snap out of their berserk rage, growing frightened at the sight of the old man and retreating instantaneously into the Shadowlands and out of the room. Jaw set in anger, Vincenzo stows his pistol in it's holster, moving towards Karina and kneeling by her in one fluid movement. The young girl turns her gaze to her ghoul. The look of fear on her face contrast greatly with the lack of humanity in the same. Undeterred by his regnant's conflicting and monstrous appearance, Vincenzo's expression softens. He leans forward, lifting the girl with ease. She curls herself into his arms, her tone near silent as she whispers: "Per favore non lasciate che nessuno mi veda come questo." He nods, calling softly for Alain to conceal them for their return to Karina's quarters.

Once behind closed doors, the young girl slowly regains her poise. She quickly brushes off the ghoul's coddling, disregarding his words of concern. "I daresay the ritual still needs some adjustments." Her voice is cold and commanding as she turns from Vincenzo, scouring her wall of books and indifferently pulling one from it's shelf. "It would be wise to have that floor repaired, before my Uncle takes note of the damage." She waves a dismissive hand, only turning back towards the center of the room and settling in once the ghoul has departed.


	27. Chapter 27

**December of 2015. Baltimore, Maryland.**

After the fire. After the fight. After the fury. A silver Mercedes pulls up near a building. The darkened neon sign reads: The Liquid Ruby. The engine idles, but no one steps out. Inside the car, behind tinted windows, an old man removes a newspaper from the center console. He opens it, making an obvious effort to appear oblivious to the other inhabitant in the car.

In the back seat, a young girl peers through the window at the empty club. She draws an ornate glass bottle from a bag beside her. The label reads: O.G. Brandy XO. Removing a tumbler from the bag, she pours a large measure of the aromatic liquor into it. Still peering at the building, she sips from the glass. She pulls a dried carnation from behind her ear, spinning the stem between her fingers. After a moment, she speaks quietly, almost to herself.

"Riposare bene, amante."

After five or ten minutes, the Mercedes pulls away.


	28. Chapter 28

**December of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The ruins of Rosselini manor loom in the darkness. The frigid air reeks of burning. Karina approaches the the charred remains of the building, the deathly pallor of her bare arms and shoulders gleaming under the sparse moonlight. Dressed in a wool overcoat, his breath fogging the air around him, Vincenzo leans against the car, watching the young girl intently. Her blue eyes seem unfocused, as she looks past the wreckage at the regal, yet desolate representation of the manse that resides in the Shadowlands. She ignores the wails of the most recent spectral additions to the area as she steps through the shattered crater that formerly was the entrance hall. Karina's wraiths spread themselves around the yard, each one appearing uncomfortable in the presence of so many of their own kind. A massive, three headed bear meets the young girl in the remains of the hall. Karina greets it absently, her hand caressing the blood streaked fur. "To my quarters." she instructs.

Shardik leads his mistress through the wreckage, pawing aside any detritus that blocks her path. Both bear and child ignore the familiar faces roaming the halls with burned flesh and gaping wounds on display. There is little that differentiates the deep blue walls of what used to be Karina's bedroom from the rest of the east wing, regardless, the bear pauses in front of the door frame, snuffling quietly at the girl before pacing in a watchful circle outside the room. She walks past the hulking beast and steps inside. The remains of the property her ghoul did not manage to salvage are scattered in pieces among the burned rubble. One item stands out as wholly intact and untouched by fire or destruction. A large cage, roughly shaped in the form of a human body. The metal shines bright, the ethereal moaning coming from the object is heard even over the cacophony that carries through the thinned walls. The young girl calls out: "Papa." In an instant, a gentleman with dark blue eyes and waves of chestnut hair appears. He remains mute, simply looking to her in silent query. She points to the gibbet in the corner, instructing him to take it to the car. The wraith complies, and she is left alone. Her gaze settles on an item, obliterated on this plane. She stares further across the shroud, her hand reaching out to grasp the item and pull it into the Skinlands, albeit temporarily.

The smooth wood feels cold even to the young girl's frigid skin. Her fingers curl comfortably around the bow. Breathing the stench of fire in death into her dead lungs, Karina tucks the Stradivarius in between her jaw and shoulder. She draws the bow to the strings gently, the melody heard above the sound of spectral lamentation. Closing her eyes, she begins playing. The song is familiar, the sound mournful and alien in the lifeless building. It carries down the halls where mortals once frequented. It bounces off of walls once plentifully bestrewn with portraits of ancestors and kin. The Cerberus ceases it's relentless pacing, belly grazing the ground into an almost submissive crouch, eyes still on the room it's master resides in. The wraiths continue their patrol, a few of them taking note of the second Kindred, residing in the Shadowlands, ambulating the west wing of the manor. The music reaches the old man, who has turned his back to the grounds, unable to continue his watch on the death-glutted property. He pulls a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping at his eyes absently before climbing into the car to await Karina's return.


	29. Chapter 29

**December of 2015. Annapolis, Maryland.**

A white van bearing the insignia of the Fire Marshal sits outside the burned remains of Rosselini manor. Other than this new addition, the property is still, quiet and lifeless. A silver Mercedes pulls up in it's usual spot, and the Karina steps out, alone. Pausing in the yard, she watches Shardik approach. The bear keeps a set of eyes on an unseen guest, and as he nears his master, Alain drops his obfuscate and manifests into sight. He speaks in a low, anxious voice to the young Donna before disappearing from sight once more. Karina makes her way into the crumbling building. Statues and ruined sculptures on the second floor have crashed through the ceiling, leaving rubble on the first floor and twisted replicas across the Sudario. The wood planks of the floor are splintered and fragile. The young girl picks her way through to the Grand Hall, lead by the three headed bear.

At a broken table, Bernito sits in his customary white oak chair. Before him is a rotten buffet of molded and discarded food. Atop this ethereal table is a small evergreen, pushed through the realm of the living into the land of the dead. In the Shadowlands, he sits at the center of the table, with the spirits of four members of his family at either side of his seat. Karina steps into the room, unacknowledged by her uncle, as he merely sits peacefully with the now-silent young girl calls for her father's wraith, speaking brief instructions to the quietly apprehensive man. Benedict un-manifests and walks closer to Bernito. Healing his shorn tongue, he opens his mouth to speak to the elder Rosselini. His attempt at speech is interrupted by his scream of pain as Bernito torments the wraith. "Leave, you useless remainder of a more useless man. Leave, or be wiped from all existence." The wraith retreats from Bernito, and is dismissed just as quickly by his mistress. Karina doesn't seem perturbed at her uncle's reaction, she almost appears expectant. She steps up to the table opposite Bernito, reaching through the shroud to pull one of the whole, unharmed chairs into the Skinlands. As she sits across from him, Bernito looks to Karina, then back to his relatives and the newly dead man dressed in a neon orange safety vest. The young girl glances at the fire marshal and purses her lips. Once more, she calls one of her servants. After a moment, Cuthbert comes into the room. "Get rid of the van." she orders. He nods, and departs. Bernito continues to sit silently, no longer agitated by the presence of unwelcome wraiths in his vicinity. Karina stares, expression blank, at her Uncle. "Zio, vuoi parlar meco?" Bernito shows no sign of hearing her. She sighs lightly through her nose, leaning back in the chair, almost comfortably.

After some time, Bernito returns to looking similarly comfortable. He begins a conversation as if mid thought with the young man to his left. "I agree that it's been an eventful century, but that's no reason to think that the Proxy Kiss is antiquated. What is 10 years to someone that will be immortal at it's conclusion. I swear, you make me wish to rethink my position on childer." Karina takes in the sight of him, as he speaks to the deceased as if they continue to live. His hair and clothes are tattered beyond reasonable modesty. His thin form shows through rips and tears, with sunken and sallow muscle and skin hanging from bone. The smallest crease appears between Karina's brows, as she struggles to retain her impassivity. Bernito continues the conversation with the unresponsive wraith as his niece watches with gritted teeth. Her inner struggle subsides, and rashly, she gestures towards the wraith on the left of Bernito. Knocked out of it's stupor, the wraiths shudders and howls. In an instant, the elder Rosselini manifests into the physical realm.

The young girl has barely time to react as a bolt of energy knocks her from her seat. She gasps, more in shock than pain, and climbs to her feet. Shardik roars from the hall, rising on his hind legs. Before he can attack his master's assailant, Karina holds her hand out towards the bear, the single syllable spoken unsteadily, "No." She doesn't remove her glance from Bernito, standing her ground even as he heaves another lance at her. It strikes it's mark, and she falls to one knee. "Uncle." Her voice is expressionless as she expends the effort to heal herself. "Please." She takes another hit, now on both knees, severely weakened from her Uncle's attack.

His voice holds a chill as he speaks, "Lasciare la mia casa prima che ti divoro."

Karina looks to Bernito's sneering face with a mixture of pity, anger and fear. Struggling to her feet, she retreats hastily, Shardik following protectively behind her. Before she is out of earshot, she speaks, not turning back to the man. "You taught me to follow the ways of our family, but eschew them yourself. Per vergogna." What easily could have been a killing blow just barely misses her as she limps down the hall.

Approaching the door, Bernito steps from the Shadowlands, blocking her way. A tense growl comes from all three mouths of the bear at her side. Karina once more stares into Bernito's horrifying expression, unable to do anything but listen. "Take your bear corpse and leave this place. I will allow mercy, because you asked for it. When you wish to become a member of this family, you may return. Until then, consider yourself beneath your uncle's name." Her gaze doesn't waver, her only physical response is a slight twitch of her jaw. "Tell Renaldo that I need to meet with him here. If he isn't terrified of death, he needs to learn the new order of things."

She nods, unwilling to break eye contact. Her voice is almost as steady as his own. "I will do so." He doesn't reply, walking back to the table without looking back.

The girl exits the ruined manor, mostly supported by the three headed bear. The driver side door of the Mercedes is flung open, as Vincenzo makes to approach Karina. "Do not come closer." The ghoul stops, anxiety etched on his expression. She arrives at the car, placing a steadying hand on the door. Seeming to stare at her own reflection in the tinted glass, she spouts orders to the converging wraiths. "Alain, continue your watch. Do not be seen. Father.." she pauses, and the sound of Shardik pacing behind her can be heard. "Remove the beast from the grounds." She opens the door, collapsing into the seat. She closes her eyes as Vincenzo climbs into next to her. He starts the car and pulls away in silence. The ghoul's rapid pulse can be heard by the girl's keen ears. She grits her teeth, facing away from the sound as they drive without destination. After what feels like hours, but is less than half of one, Karina speaks. "Stop the car." Vincenzo pulls over, the car idling on the empty road. Once more, she calls her father, the wraith instantaneously manifesting as the young girl spends precious vitae. "Stay with Vincenzo. Neither of you follow me."

Her hand reaches for the door handle, as the ghoul tentatively speaks, "Miss Karina, what.." His words are cut off with a gurgle, as Karina leaps across the seat. Her fangs dig cruelly into the old man's throat as she feeds from the screaming ghoul. In the backseat, her father watches, an unseen look of smugness on his face. Just as quickly as she attacked, Karina pulls away, exiting the car while Vincenzo gasps in agony. He hastily searches through his pockets for something to staunch the bleeding, placing a folded handkerchief to his throat. When he finally looks towards the door, the young girl is nowhere in sight. Reaching across the seat to close the door, he places his bloody, trembling hands on the steering wheel. After a few moments, the Mercedes pulls away, directed towards the Don's haven.


	30. Chapter 30

**December of 2015. Elkridge, Maryland.**

An hour far too late for a young girl to be wandering about, unattended. Fog lays thick in the streets between decrepit buildings. A figure walks aimlessly, pausing at regular intervals. Each pause is accompanied by murmured chants and indifferent gestures. With every pause, the air seems to grow thicker, dense enough to make the hair on the back of ones neck stand up. An ethereal moaning follows the girl's path, as she tears at the shroud between the living and dead. Spirits noting the weakened barrier skulk just out of the Necromancer's peripheral vision. Her own wraiths keep their distance, spread out in watchful intervals, close enough to act, yet far enough to avoid her wrath.

A vagrant spirit catches her eye, and Karina stops, directing her ire towards the foolish soul. The wraith screams as she torments it without respite. The screams take a corrupted tone, doubled in timbre as the wraith appears to be torn from the inside out. A black ichorous figure crawls forth, the shriek still echoing from a lip-less mouth. Karina stares at the spectre with no fear, no concern. Her blue eyes seem as flat and lifeless as it's own. The spectre hefts a discarded engine block from a pile of detritus stacked in a driveway and hurls it at the young girl. The is no flinch of movement in response, even as the tallest of the wraiths motions towards the projectile, halting its trajectory. The engine block is flung back at the spectre, as the other wraiths converge on the monstrosity. Losing whatever bare interest she held, Karina turns and walks on as her followers debilitate the spectre.

Arriving at a dead end, she concludes her annihilation of the shroud. Curling her fingers around the links of a rusted fence, she stares, eyes unfocused, into the Shadowlands dim and desolate landscape. Her thoughts travel and linger on her estranged familia. The anger when Thomas was attacked. Fury, when she herself was attacked. The undesirable horror when Bernito was nearly killed in their own burning home. The indignation of his response to her attempt at jarring him out of his mania.

Bernito's words, spat harshly at his niece.

 _Consider yourself beneath your uncles name._

The still of the night is shattered, as Karina throws her head back, a piercing shriek issuing from her lips. Her expression is stricken, broken and agonized as her beast is freed from it's restraint. She tears at the metal fencing, ripping it out of place and crushing it between her fists. Drawn to the sound of her outcry, her wraiths approach, on the defense. Her fury is unleashed at the first spirit she sets eyes on, the bespectacled and effeminate Robert Gray. She torments the wraith repeatedly, his cries mingling with her own as he struggles to restore his pathos. "Get him away! Before he turns!" Karina changes the target of her onslaught, bringing the commanding Lieutenant to his knees.

From the closest building, a pair of squatters peer out through the boarded up door. The youngest of the wraiths turns towards them, meeting the larger ones eyes. The small wraith disappears, and the large mortal starts walking towards the screaming girl and struggling wraiths. Cuthbert, catching on to the idea, breaks for the house, pursuing the second mortal. Karina's wide eyed glare is torn from the spirits, focusing on the Kine in her view. She closes the distance between them, and clamps her jaws on the soft, warm throat. As Jackie Boy returns to his own consciousness, the mortal bellows as the grip of Karina's fangs tear and render his flesh. Blood blankets the young girl as she drinks him dry, obliterating the drained corpse with a flick of her hand. Smelling the other mortal, she is drawn into the condemned house, her beast still howling for sustenance. The scrawny kine is held in place by Cuthbert's intangible grapple. The young girl snarls at the wraith, impairing him with her Necromancy before brutally consuming the Kine's life force. Her beast becomes sated before the mortal's heart stops beating. Pulling away from the gushing artery, Karina stares into the man's dying eyes. With a dull crack, she snaps his neck, sending his soul into the Shadowlands.

The sound of pained keening can be heard in the street, as the young girl rises to her feet. Her dark curls are peppered with splatters of blood, her dress is torn and stained with the same. With no investigation of her derelict surroundings, she moves deeper into the house, finding a moldering bathroom. Her expression is once more the impassive, indifferent mask she commonly wears. She shuts the door behind her, the vanity lights blinking and flickering. Spinning the cold water tap, a groan comes from the pipes, as frigid, rust colored water begins to spray haphazardly from the shower head. Without removing her garments, Karina steps into the spray. Crimson trails in slow spirals down the staring eye of the drain. She stands in the cold water, unmoving, until the pipes empty and the water turns from spray, to spurt, to nothing. She remains there, clothes and curls dripping filthy water, for several minutes. Without any change to her expression, she lowers herself into the tub, curling her arms around her knees and resting her head against the chipped porcelain.

Outside the room, the Lieutenant stations his injured and frightened comrades around the house. "Secure the area." he orders, taking post outside the bathroom door.

Robert, barely healed, responds in an almost petulant tone, "J, why don't we just..." A sharp glare from the other wraith quiets his potential treason. The wraiths stay until dusk, safeguarding their troubled young mistress.


	31. Chapter 31

**December of 2015. Christmas day. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The approaching dawn brings the Kindred in the Don's haven to their daily slumber. Karina's wraiths spread themselves around the property, vigilantly keeping watch. Vincenzo departs from his unfamiliar quarters, pausing outside the door next to his. The young Donna arrived early in the night, not emerging to speak with anyone beyond her brief address to Renaldo. Vincenzo turns the knob, discovering the door to be unlocked, as it swings open. A single lamp burns in the darkened room. Karina's still form is slumped over the table, her curls spread in a fan over the aged tome open in front of her. The distress in the ghoul's expression abates slightly, at the sight of his unscathed regnant. He immediately walks over to the bed, turning the covers aside. Returning to Karina's side, he lifts the young girl from her seat with some effort. Carrying her over and placing her in the bed, the old man grazes his hand against her forehead. His warm skin is a stark contrast to her own frigid flesh. He pulls the covers over her, a trivial, yet reverential action. Peering at the girl for some time, Vincenzo sighs. Eventually, he exits, returning to his own quarters. Sparing only a few silent moments to re-bandage the wound on his neck, the ghoul settles himself down to sleep peacefully for the first time in several nights.


	32. Chapter 32

**January of 2016. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Late in the night after the Swap Meet, Karina finds herself wandering about the grounds of the Don's, and most recently her own, haven. Shardik follows close by and vigilant, her wraiths less close but just as attentive. She stops at the water near the edge of the property. "Lieutenant. A chair." Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the stony faced wraith hears and complies. A simple, straight backed armchair appears on the bank. She takes the seat without thanks, facing the river with a contemplative expression on her face. The bear hunkers down next to the chair, almost like a tame house pet. It's three sets of eyes continue to survey it's surroundings for any potential threat to it's mistress. Karina's own gaze become unfocused, as she looks towards the direction of where her Uncle's manor once stood proudly. Her face remains expressionless, save for a small crease between her brows.

After almost an hour, a figure approaches the young girl. As the ghoul draws near, Shardik turns one head towards him with a low-pitched growl, only being silenced when Karina's hand is felt in his fur. Vincenzo stands to the side of the girl's chair, glancing at her with concern before turning his own gaze to the water. "Stai bene?"

Karina takes several moments to respond, and when she does, her tone is almost curt. "I do grow exponentially tired of being asked that."

Despite the brusque response, the ghoul almost seems pleased. He clasps his hands together behind his back, seeming to ponder his words carefully. "Then perhaps, Miss Karina, instead of focusing on your introspection, you should reestablish your authority and grandiosity."

The young girl turns slowing, facing her servant with an expression of incredulity. He simply smiles at the girl, dauntless. Her deep blue eyes stare into his warm brown ones in a silent standoff. "How exceedingly ballsy of you, Vincenzo." She faces the water once more, tapping a finger to her lips. "However brazen, you are not incorrect. Both domain and family have languished in my dormancy."

The ghoul nods. "As have your studies."

Karina's eyebrow arches. "Do not grow too impertinent, old man." He chuckles, only noticing how tense his own posture was as he relaxes. The young girl idly pets Shardik with her free hand. "I suppose I should send some of my allies to investigate what the Lieutenant discovered at the Hunter's compound."

Vincenzo unclasps his hands and removes a small notepad from his suit pocket. "Perhaps the Lasombra? He seems to be a good man, willing to assist. Or maybe Blair? She is quite loyal and devoted." There is a slight teasing tone in the old man's voice, and Karina spares a withering glance to her ghoul.

"Non ho la pazienza per il vostro tentativo di immischiarsi nei miei affari carnali." Vinenzo spreads his hands in supplication.

The young girl rests her elbows on the arms of the chair, steepling her fingers in front of her face. "Jackson." she calls to the wraith in a commanding tone. The small boy manifests and stands before Karina, awaiting instruction. "Fetch Don Renaldo. I need to speak with him." Jackie Boy nods vigorously, the shadows around him twirling around him, almost excitedly. She crosses her legs, leaning back slightly as she awaits the Don. "Vincenzo, bring me a scotch."


	33. Chapter 33

**November of 2014. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Karina sits, cross-legged, upon her bed. The young girl is nearly dwarfed by the expansive frame and canopy. The room smells strongly of fresh paint and the rich scent of coffee. Vincenzo is seated comfortably on an antique scrolled couch, a steaming mug in his hand and a newspaper spread in his lap. The ghoul stares about the room approvingly. "A lovely color, Miss Karina. Such a stark difference from your bedroom in Sicily."

Sparing a slightly disapproving glance to the silent, spectral woman in the room, she waves her hand indifferently. "A change in scenery to accompany a change in circumstance. Mio zio Bernito has been more than gracious to allow us to reside in his home." Vincenzo nods, sipping his coffee.

Flipping through the dusty pages of a large, leather bound book, Karina offhandedly remarks: "I would be lying if I said I wasn't both surprised and elated at his offer." Her words contrast greatly from her expressionless tone. "I feared Bernito would consider me an illegitimate aberration. Little more than a masquerade breach and a blight to the family." The ghoul peers at her over the rim of his mug. The young girl sits up straighter, her posture one of elegance and dignity. "Bernito is a powerful entity, and I plan on becoming a prestigious necromancer to follow in his footsteps."

Vincenzo smiles at his young regnant. "I admire your amaranthine ambition, Miss Karina." The corner of her lip quirks up, just slightly.

Not too much later, the young Rosselini is wandering the grand halls of her new home, growing accustomed to the manor and it's accommodations. She passes an open room, her eyes catching on a large wall of books. Suddenly aware of the occupant in the study, seated comfortably at his desk, she appears almost flustered. "Uncle Bernito, mie scuse, I did not realize this was one of your private quarters."

The elder Rosselini does not seem bothered, simply gesturing to the plush armchair across from him. "Di non preoccuparmi, mia nipote. Feel free to peruse my collection," he looks towards the wall of books. "and join me at a seat." Karina nods, gratefully. Her blue eyes rake hungrily over the library, finally pulling a heavy tome from a shelf and seating herself across from her uncle. Her returns to his studies in a comfortable silence, and after a moment of mute scrutiny, Karina does the same.

 **January of 2016. Annapolis, Maryland.**

As every night since her relocation from Rosselini manor, Karina calls for Alain to return from his post at the ruins. The night is almost at it's conclusion before he returns. The young girl stares impassively at the wraith, as he informs her of her uncles conduct in the Shadowlands. Alain shifts from foot to foot, like a spooked animal. Karina's expression shows disgust at his cowardice, even more so when she walks by the wraith, causing him to flinch backwards. "You are not worth the expenditure of vitae." she spits over her shoulder as she exits the room. She spares a moment to enter her ghoul's empty room, filching a set of car keys from the cluttered desk. In short time she exits the haven without fanfare, climbing into the driver's seat of the silver Mercedes and making her way towards her former home.

It's less than two hours before dawn when Karina arrives. The manor's outward appearance is the same, save for about a dozen or so unmanned construction vehicles. The young girl surveys the vehicles without interest, as she makes her way towards the ruins. Her gait is steady and confident. She shows no sign of apprehension entering the building, even as a voice screams from within the spectral side of the manor. "Pull the planks up, fasten them straight!" Immediately following the order, the groaning of planks could be heard accompanied by the monotonous banging of hammer on steel and anvil. Hearing Bernito's voice, she draws closer, a slightly curious expression on her face. "If it happens that the ground is uneven, let it be leveled!" the voice continues, in a tone reminiscent of an errant and tyrannical sergeant. In pace with the voice, broken beams and burnt sections of floor are raised up and lashed together in groups. The impressive wall forms a three-bodied high barrier about the charnel mansion, prepared and guarded by ethereal men and women who all bore the scars of bites and burns. Still, above every gasp and anguished moan, a clashing of steel sets a steady pace. The young girl's blue eyes are widened in awe at the sight. She continues forward, focusing her attention fully across the Shroud.

In the Shadowlands, dozens of drones and terrified seeming wraiths work to make some sort of wall to block out intruders, lashing the beams with robes that scream out into eternity. Deeply entrenched within the house is the former capofamiglia of the mansion, standing beside a man who seems to call forth fire from the very earth to fuel his spectral forge. Unperturbed by the wraiths, Karina sets eyes on the Forger, a look of recognition upon her face. Once in sight of the pair, she halts her progress, watching her uncle and the Soul Forger whom she and Valik spent so much time with. "Are you sure we have enough steel to arm them?" the patron of the home asks with an even tone.

"Enough," the singe-faced smith replies, "to make war on Jupiter and all Olympus." The Forger's voice is even, yet profoundly deafening.

The two men speak, and the world around them shakes. The other side, the world of the living, is unaffected. Karina stands among the silent ruins of the manor, staring through to the Shadowlands with envy. Her uncle's face lowers to see his niece, then returns to his partner's burnt countenance. "More. More souls for the good work," he states to the Forger.

The young girl perches on a pile of rubble, her posture dignified despite her battered surroundings. She speaks quietly, but not without courage. "Se dovesse essere desiderato, offro il mio assitenza."

Bernito, a look of rigid and stalwart scowling upon his face, replies thusly: "Will you return to my family and place hell under our feet?"

She replies, unhesitatingly "Without question."

"Then we will rebuild our Cthonic empire of the dead, where terror will reave life from flesh and pull the blood from gravestones." His voice, speaking Italian with a thick Roman accent, is matched by hands that dart under Bernito's vest and jacket. He sheds the layers and seems enthralled by the moans and discord about him.

Karina watches him, almost enraptured. "My talents are yours to utilize, uncle." Again, there is no hesitance in her tone.

"Good." His hands calm, sliding the coat and vest down into the rubble on the other side of the Shroud. In an instant, he returns to the world of the living and seems discomforted. She remains seated, peering at him calmly."None will stand in the way of my experimentation. Our family will achieve the prestige requisite to us." He pauses. "Or I will die with our ambitions."

"I will see that that does not happen." Whether she is responding to his first statement, or the second, is not apparent.

"Are you nearly completed with the removal of the Inquisition from our doors?"

She crosses her hands in her lap, almost primly. "It is in the works. Our people have united with the Camarilla. If we do not succeed as a united front, then we do not deserve to survive."

"Many do not 'deserve' to survive."

"You speak true."

"The reaper spares only the stupid, and I predict that Bartertown and Baltimore will outlive us all." As if suddenly given a notice from another realm, Bernito adds: "I will need to speak with Tybalt, soon."

She nods, staring up at the elder Rosselini. "I can bring him to you, the next coming night."

"Good," he states, peering again to his partner who continues to beat on his anvil monotonously. She follows his gaze, inclining her head in the forger's direction.

"I never did learn that gentleman's name."

The forger, mouth chipped with shredded steel and embers, doesn't reply. "Some of us are far too old to remember our names, Karina. It is at that very moment that we have eclipsed our enemies."

"I yearn for such a time."

"It is unlikely that you will live to see it, with Gehenna opening her mouth to swallow us whole. She is ever closer, even in our more pleasant nights. The thin blooded Cainites will never know the beauty of age, Karina. Your path to apotheosis will rely on swift action."

Despite Bernito's formidable words and tone, the young girl seems at ease. She spreads her hands, replying casually. "I plan to take such action, to ensure my own prosperity. Should I fall to my demise, perhaps I will rule there, as well."

Bernito, suddenly distracted by the raising of pillars and statues on the other side, doesn't respond. Karina glances at a dainty watch on her wrist. She's quiet for a moment, before commenting."The sun will rise soon." Again, Bernito doesn't respond, watching two spirits toiling to retrieve a spectral bust bearing his brother's face from a pile of wasted debris. She purses her lips briefly, but holds her silence as well, standing by his side. After several moments of quiet contemplation, the young girl speaks again. "May I stay with you, uncle?" Her tone lacks pretension, having only the barest sense of hesitance.

Bernito begins to walk to the basement, but pauses at her request. "You may not find it suitable to your tastes, but you may." He continues on his way.

She follows, dutifully. "I am not so snobbish."

He passes through a small hole into the basement, which seems largely undamaged by the fire. The young girl's expression is almost wistful as she follows him into the basement, glancing around at the remains of her home. Bernito, opening a small closet door, sits on the ground within. Karina accompanies him, settling herself down primly, as if on an elegant feather bed, rather than the floor of a closet within a burned out mansion. Bernito closes the door, locking it and placing a large slab of granite in the way. He sits against the door with a stillness that reflects the ageless nature of the natural ground he sits on. Like the stone, he is a similarly pale, static, being. After a moment, Karina shifts her position, drawing nearer to her uncle. The pair of Rosselini sit, still and silent in the dark. As the sun rises and both Kindred are drawn into sleep, the young girl's small form leans against Bernito's, her head coming to rest upon her uncle's shoulder. The caricature of affection remains as unseen in the ruined manor as the spectral construction that progresses through the day.


	34. Chapter 34

**January of 2016. Annapolis, Maryland.**

"Miss Karina. How heartening to see that you are still safe and well."

Vincenzo stares at the young girl as she enters her quarters, an almost disapproving expression on his wizened face. Karina barely spares a glance to the ghoul as she closes the door behind her. Crossing the room to retrieve her cell phone from the nightstand, she begins typing out a message, responding offhandedly to Vincenzo. "Yes, I often think so." She is still typing as the ghoul rises from his seat, approaching Karina and plucking the cell phone from her hands. He tosses it onto the table with a stern look at the girl. She returns the look with her own unimpressed glower. "While I commend your new found audacity, I must insist that you discontinue any inquiries and leave me to my own devices. It has been a trying night Vincenzo, and a scolding from my ghoul is non existent on my list of things that I can force myself to give a fuck about."

The young girl starts to turn away from the ghoul and is abruptly halted by his hand on her forearm. Her gaze travels from his grip on her, up to his face. Her own expression is almost astonished.

"Do you have any idea of the misery that you have put me through these past weeks?" His tone expresses a scarcely contained distress. She pulls her arm free from his grasp, glaring at him in silence. Vincenzo's gaze and stance do not falter, his cheeks growing slightly flushed in his irritation towards Karina.

"I have nurtured and raised you since you were an infant. It is in no way a burden to you to simply keep me informed when you plan to traipse about the city, unprotected." Karina starts to turn away again, and Vincenzo snaps "Non mi ignorano, bambino."

She responds in a cold, formidable voice. "You are out of line, Vincenzo."

"I am not!" His voice is raised from it's normally soft tone into almost a shout. "You have stared death in the eye twice and both times you barely survived. Your behavior has been irresponsible, erratic and downright imbecilic..."

His words are cut brutally short as the sound of a sharp slap echos about the room. The ghoul stumbles back, a red weal raising on his cheek and a drop of blood suspended from his split lip. More wounded than his physical appearance is his expression, as he stares at his young mistress. Karina lifts her cell phone from the table, looking to Vincenzo impassively. Her voice is quiet and calm.

"See that you never forget your place, old man."

Without another word, she leaves the room.


	35. Chapter 35

**January of 2016. Annapolis, Maryland.**

The wind gusts, snow swirling in the frigid air. Indifferent to the blizzard howling around her, Karina stands near the water, an expectant expression on her face. Her coat, worn out of habit rather than necessity, flaps open around her small frame. Close to the riverbank, Shardik rolls on his back, coating his fur with snow. Vincenzo, bundled in a wool coat and scarf, hovers near the young girl. The fog of his breath is hardly noticeable in the whiteout conditions. "Have you received word from Signor Cygnus recently?"

Karina turns slightly, her curls whipping about in a blast of wind, glancing at the shivering ghoul. Despite his obvious discomfort in the glacial conditions, Vincenzo has a twinkle of gaiety in his expression. "Have you and uncle Bernito been conspiring?

The ghoul chuckles. "Wouldn't dream of it, Miss Karina." The bear stops its frolicking, climbing to its feet with a quiet growl as a figure approaches from the Shadowlands. The figure is a wraith, a young woman in torn clothing and a bruised and battered appearance. Vincenzo pulls his coat tighter, backing up a few steps as if to allow the girl space to perform.

The woman stops in front of the young girl, unmanifested and equally unaffected by the temperature. Nevertheless, she shudders under Karina's cold gaze. "Can...can I help you ma'am?"

Karina raises her hands, chanting in Italian. The wraith's eyes dart from side to side, as she shifts slightly, searching for an escape. A threatening growl from Shardik stills her movement. She turns her attention back to Karina, who has stopped chanting. The young girl flicks her hand towards the wraith, and a pained scream joins the sounds of howling wind. Now, the wraith attempts to escape. After a few steps, she's halted by an unseen barrier. Her distress cry carries across the property, and almost in unison, the other wraiths scattered in the yard flinch away from the sound.

Karina gestures again, assailing the trapped wraith with her Necromancy. The wraith falls to her knees, sobbing and clawing at the ground, seeking an escape and finding none. Vincenzo's voice comes from behind Karina.

"It would appear that you have succeeded in your endeavor. Congratulazioni, signorina."

The young girl stares contemplatively across the water, the smallest hint of a smile upon her lips.

"Finalmente. One more step closer to my aspirations."

She turns from the wraith, leaving it wounded and bound to the grounds, heading towards the haven with her ghoul and Cerberus at her heels.


	36. Chapter 36

**January of 2016. Annapolis, Maryland.**

Meandering around his young mistresses quarters, Vincenzo removes a coat from the back of a chair, placing it on a hanger in the closet. Karina perches on the edge of her desk, unwinding a handkerchief from her hand. She tosses the lightly blood-spotted fabric onto the table, where the ghoul retrieves it and places it in a hamper. She stares at the open cut on her palm, willing vitae to the area to heal. The edges of the wound slowly begin to knit back together. Too slowly, and she turns her hand over in distaste. Encircling her fourth finger is a silver band, adorned with sapphires. She peers, expressionless, at this new addition.

"It is a beautiful ring, Miss Karina."

Karina tilts her head to the side, almost curiously. Her blue eyes meet Vincenzo's, studying his own pleased expression. He places a hand on her shoulder, smiling.

Indifferent to his touch, she looks back to the ring. "Yes. It is."

A muffled moan comes from a body-sized cage in the corner. The man inside is recognizable as Karina's father, if only marginally. His normally pristine suit is torn and burned. The blue eyes that match his daughters have been torn from their sockets. He slumps against the metal of the cage, precariously balanced upon stumps where his feet once were. Disgust crosses the young girl's face, and she flicks her hand at her father, causing him to howl his pain through a tongueless maw.

"Suino," she comments, almost as a growl.

Vincenzo continues tidying up the room, moving around the cage without a second glance to it's inhabitant. He prattles to Karina, not really expecting response. "How did your meeting with the Don and Miss Angeline advance?"

The young girl moves from her perch on the desk, to the chair. Spinning the ring around her dainty finger, she replies: "Better than I expected. Angeline is both loyal and fractionally more intelligent than some of the family have proven to be." She glances at the almost fully healed wound on her hand. "It helps to have insurance."

The ghoul nods in agreement, stacking her books into a neat pile. Karina stops spinning the ring, and abruptly rises from her seat. Crossing the room, she reaches across the shroud, pulling a large framed picture into the Skinlands. She props the portrait of herself and Bernito against the wall, staring down at it blandly. Vincenzo notices this, and his brow furrows in concern. "I am sure that Bernito will be quite pleased with your new," he pauses, slightly stumbling over his words. "...arrangement."

Again, the young girl's attention is pulled towards the ring on her finger. Appearing tense, Vincenzo tentatively inquires, "Miss Karina, are you pleased with this arrangement?"

She places her hand flat on the table, her gaze switching from the band of silver, to the painting, and finally to Vincenzo. "Tybalt is a good man."

The ghoul opens his mouth to inquire further, but Karina's steady gaze seems to compel him into silence. Completing his tidying, Vincenzo finally takes a seat, raising his eyebrows when Karina's rises from her own almost immediately. She opens her closet, shrugging on the coat that was just recently hung.

"I am going to visit Blair."

In a flurry of movement and a toss of her curls, she is gone.


	37. Chapter 37

**January of 2016. Annapolis, Marylan** d.

A lanky, dark haired gentleman prowls the fenced in yard at Don Renaldo's haven. The property has been quiet, save for the unannounced arrival of Bernito just moments earlier. He pauses in his uneventful patrol, watching the youngest of his compatriots toss snowballs at the Cerberus bear. Shaking his head, a smile on his face, he mumbles to himself. "Over-exuberant little turd."

The bear turns a head in the wraith's direction, looking just past him. Cuthbert spins around, on alert until Alain drops his obfuscate and almost runs into him.

"Hey man! Where've you.." Cuthbert trails off, taking in the expression on Alain's face. The blond wraith looks terrified, panting slightly despite his lack of a need for breath. Cuthbert puts his hands on his friend's shoulders, silently urging him to speak.

"I fucked up. I fucked up big time, 'Bert." Alain scrubs at his face with his hands. Before he can elaborate, both wraiths feel the pull of their mistress's summons. With only a brief glance of distress between them, they follow Jackie Boy, who is already barreling towards the haven.

They find their comrades and Karina in her room. She sits, legs crossed, typing a message onto her phone. The wraiths shift anxiously, all but Lt. Mann sharing similar inquisitive looks. She finishes typing, only to have her phone vibrate with yet another incoming message. She spares the briefest glances to the message before placing the phone on the desk beside her. Her cold blue eyes fall directly on Alain. She beckons him forward, and he complies apprehensively.

"What did you witness at Rosselini manor?"

Swallowing reflexively, Alain reports his observations. Karina listens, her expression never advancing past cold and emotionless. It isn't until the wraith stumbles on his words slightly, that she returns her gaze to him.

"After Renaldo disappeared, Mr. Rosselini departed from the Skinlands, and the Don and Tania headed towards...ah, they..."

The young girl's eyebrow arches up.

"They were beyond your sight, Alain. How would you assume they were headed anywhere?"

Alain's meager confidence fails him, and he drops his eyes, saying no more.

"What are you attempting to keep from my knowledge?" Karina uncrosses her legs, leaning forward slightly. "Do not make me ask again."

With herculean effort, Alain finishes his account.

"I followed the road I knew they would use to return to the haven. I did not conceal myself. Tania appeared, and I warned her that Bernito was also heading to the haven, and not to lead the Don back. I...I warned them both away."

The last word is barely out of his mouth before Karina unleashes her torment upon the wraith. Wracked with agony, Alain manages not to cry out, meeting the necromancer's eyes with the barest sense of defiance. Behind them, the other wraiths flinch, Jackie Boy falling back to cower against the stone faced Lieutenant. Still expressionless, Karina flicks a hand at Alain, almost carelessly. His gall is lost quickly, as she continues to assail him. He falls to his hands and knees, the struggle to retain his stability brutally apparent on his rounded features. Cuthbert twitches slightly, as if wanting to intervene. Several of the others commence an offensive stance, as if sensing an incoming change in the wraith on the ground. The sound of Karina's phone once more vibrating with a message is heard between Alain's agonized wails.

She turns from the wraith, allowing him brief reprieve as she glances at her phone. The message is from Tybalt, and something seems to ease in her expression as she peruses the text. Tucking the phone into the top of her dress she stands, looking down her nose at the sobbing, anguished Alain.

"I should end you. All of the times you have deliberately disobeyed my orders. It is not your fucking place to interfere. I should send you howling into the Nihil as a loathsome spectre." Her lip lifts in a snarl of disgust. "On your feet, filth."

Legs and body trembling, eyes on the floor, Alain climbs to his feet. Turning towards the desk, Karina removes a simple hunting knife from a drawer. She holds it by the blade, offering the handle away from her.

"Cuthbert, teach il tuo amico a lesson in obedience."

The dark haired wraith doesn't hesitate, taking the blade from Karina and approaching Alain. It isn't until he is faced away from the others, looking into his friend's pained gaze, that his own mild expression falters. He presses the knife point against the soft tissue under Alain's sternum, his hand shaking slightly. His voice is barely above a whisper as he speaks.

"I'm sorry, Al."

With that, he forces the knife in Alain's gut to the hilt.


	38. Chapter 38

**March of 2016. Sherwood Forest, Maryland.**

The last Kindred exits the youngest Rosselini's haven, signaling the conclusion of the Swap Meet. Radiating smugness, Karina makes her way towards her quarters, Vincenzo and Shardik and her father in tow. With her departure, the wraiths disperse themselves amongst the grounds.

Alain leans, unaccompanied, against the fountain. The blond wraith's round face seems drawn, his eyes dart about in a frenetic, paranoid manner. He jumps, hearing the approach of another individual, fading into Obfuscate without seeming to realize it. Cuthbert glances to where his friend was sitting, raising his hands in passivity. "Relax man, it's just me." Alain's form blinks into view, his blue eyes narrowing suspiciously at the other wraith. Cuthbert catches the look, forcing a smile onto his own face. He speaks with a strained casualty. "How was your trip with Psychopath Sr?"

Eyes widening in fear, Alain reacts like a deer in headlights, shushing Cuthbert and gazing warily at the other wraiths, drawn to the pair's conversation. "Don't. Don't fucking joke like that, 'Bert."

Cuthbert shrugs, giving Alain a puzzled smile. "Thought you'd want to brag about getting some action." He looks up towards the manor. "She's not around."

A scoff comes from the side of the building, but both wraiths barely spare a glance to the grim faced Lieutenant as he continues his eavesdropping. Off Cuthbert's look of concern, Alain scrubs at his face with his knuckles. The blond wraiths seems to almost shrink into himself. "You may be the current golden boy, but I don't enjoy this shit." He stares around the yard, overly suspicious. "I'm not..." He trails off as the other wraiths approach, Jackie Boy following the bespectacled Robert Gray, a hank of the older wraith's shirt in his small fist. Robert settles onto one of the stone benches, making the effort to distract Jackie from pestering his agitated comrade. Alain watches them, shifting his eyes to Lt. Mann and back to Cuthbert. He swallows, loudly and needlessly. "I'm not a monster."

At this line, the Lieutenant guffaws. "You're right about that, boy. You're not a monster, you're a fucking pansy." He points towards the manor. "That little girl up there has bigger balls than you."

At mention of Karina, Alain cowers, staring down at his own feet. The Lieutenant sneers, even as Cuthbert strides towards him, ever the defender. "Why don't you mind your business, you sack of shit?"

He punctuates his words with a wave of his hands, and the Lieutenant flies backwards, landing on his ass. Leaping back up with a growl of anger, he stalks towards the taller wraith, hands opening as an assault rifle materializes into his grasp. Jackie Boy starts to sob, as Alain disappears from view, a shameful expression on his face. Lt Mann and Cuthbert converge on each other. With a sigh, Robert places a comforting hand on the young wraith's shoulder, looking sharply towards Mann and Cuthbert. A fathomless shroud of black falls on both wraiths, a stifled shriek coming from within. Cuthbert breaks from the shroud first, shooting Robert a dirty look before unmanifesting and escaping further into the yard. Lt Mann escapes the shroud with more dignity, stepping into the cul-de-sac driveway with a barely repressed shudder. Jackie's head buried in his shoulder, Robert simply peers meekly at the remaining wraith, piping up in his quietly effeminate voice. "We're all in the same situation Jay, why instigate?"

The Lieutenant studies Robert for a moment, his expression stern. "We're not buddies, we're fucking soldiers. Those little pansies shirk responsibility like a pair of dirty socks. We serve the girl, we don't bitch about our fucking plight."

Robert pushes his glasses up his nose, appearing almost astounded. "She's not your friend, either. She'd kill you just as soon as any of us."

Lt. Mann straightens his fatigues, sparing no parting glance to Robert or Jackie as he returns to his post. His words travel through the quiet night to those in earshot. "I'd rather serve the devil, than be in her path."


	39. Chapter 39

**April of 2016. Sherwood Forest, Maryland.**

The night is cool, still and quiet, save for the near silent lap of the Severn river, and the soft thump of paws as Shardik paces the grounds. Karina and Vincenzo sit in a comfortable silence, the latter perusing his newspaper, the former gazing out towards the water without expression. The wraiths patrol obediently, vigilant to intruders and visitors alike. Without cue or evocation, Karina speaks as if continuing a conversation that neither young girl or old man initiated. "Il suo fine si avvicina."

Vincenzo folds his newspaper, placing it on the table. He refrains from questioning, simply waiting for Karina to continue her train of thought.

"I believe he knows it, perhaps even yearns for it. Such acceptance of one's own death is beyond my grasp, per adesso." She resumes her expressionless stare.

Vincenzo allows several minutes of silence before inquiring further. "Stai parlando di tuo zio?"

"Si."

Vincenzo's brow furrows slightly, but his expression shows no surprise, seeming almost expectant of this subject. Karina sighs quietly, the sound drawing Shardik's attention to his mistress. The bear lumbers over, settling by the young girl's feet. She pays little mind to the creature as she continues.

"Uncle Bernito's madness spreads like a poison. While even I can revel in the chaos it brings, it will be all too soon before he turns on his family, as well."

At this statement, Vincenzo raises an eyebrow, unseen by the young girl. "More than he already has, Miss Karina?"

"There are vast differences between offense from provocation, and the senseless violence from a mindless savage." She states this plainly, as if undeniable fact.

An owl hoots from the depths of the surrounding woods, the sound responded to with a low growl from the Cerberus. Karina's hand drops to the bear's fur, idly stroking. "Much is to be gained with his inherent demise." Her voice is cold and thoughtful. "My advancement in power, certain inheritances..." She stops, placing her hands flat on the table before her. Her lips part, but quickly draw back together. Vincenzo watches this with a sense of growing concern. The inhuman young girl bows her head, her palms pressing to her face in a caricature of sorrow. Vincenzo rises from his chair, reaching his hand to the girl's shoulder. Shardik lunges towards him, teeth bared, sending the old man shuffling backwards. His chair tips and falls to the ground with a clatter. Karina reacts to none of this, and after the briefest moment, pulls her hands from her face.

"Sit. Both of you." The bear hunkers back down, one set of eyes resuming a steady glare towards the ghoul. Vincenzo retrieves his chair, settling into it with his own eyes on Karina.

"Yet another reason for this much needed resolution." Her voice exhibits the smallest change in tone. The young girl blinks rapidly a few times, rubbing her hands unconsciously on her dress. Keeping her gaze on the river, the stoic, impassive expression returns to her face.

"Emotion is weakness. Bernito è troppo caro a me di esistere."


	40. Chapter 40

**June of 2016. Sherwood Forest, Maryland.**

Flinching back from some unseen force, Vincenzo stumbles backwards, knocking into a coffee table. The old man rubs at the back of his knee, glancing at his stone-faced mistress. Karina sits in a plush love seat, her agitation only shown as fingers tapping a sharp, staccato rhythm on the scrolled arm of the seat.

"A moments rest per favore, Miss Karina."

The young girl heaves a disgusted sigh, and dismissively waves her hand at the ghoul.

"Bene."

Vincenzo leans against a table, dabbing at his brow with a handkerchief. Again peering at Karina, he appears concerned. Taking the time to fold his pocket linen, he places in his suit coat before speaking.

"You seem distracted, miss."

Karina turns her attention to Vincenzo. Her blue eyes appear cold, deadened, in her inhumane visage. When she replies, her voice is flat, and toneless.

"Do I?" She sneers slightly, glaring at the ghoul. "As usual, you astound me with your astute declarations."

Vincenzo doesn't falter under her gaze, and after a moment Karina looks away. She speaks into the air, the words seeming more to be spoken for herself, than for her attentive company.

"Things are being set into motion that ought not to be, and those plans that should already be well underway are languishing."

She leans her elbow against the couch, rubbing at her lips with the back of her fingers.

"He plays them for the fools that they are, and yet..."

Her hand curls into a fist. Teeth bared, she continues.

"He attempts to play me for the same. I will not let this weakness and di affetto stand in my way. If Blair won't cooperate, if none of them take heed, I will take Bernito out myself."

The ghoul looks at Karina, incredulous. He responds without thinking, his expression showing self-reproach before the words fully leave his lips.

"Would you even be capable of such an act?"

All sense of stoicism leaves the young girl's face. She blazes with fury, whipping her hand towards Vincenzo, and spitting out an incantation. The ghoul's body drops, languid and inanimate. Across the shroud, the physical embodiment of the old man's soul stands in the Shadowlands, his expression stunned as he takes in the sight of his torpid body. Raising his eyes to glance into the Skinlands, stunned turns to frightened as he meets his mistress's eyes. An ersatz mockery of a smile permeates Karina's beastly countenance. She rises from the couch, gathering a few books and leaving the ghoul's soulless body sprawled on the floor without a second glance.


	41. Chapter 41

**July of 2016. Sherwood Forest, Maryland.**

The scrape and tap of polished dress shoes echoes against the marble floor as Vincenzo paces, awaiting Karina's return from Vegas. Benedict stands, still and unmanifested in the hallway, watching the old man with wry amusement. Both gentlemen's attention are drawn to the front as the sound of a car pulling into the cul de sac is heard. A second later, Jackie Boy barrels through the door, shortly followed by Shardik and the young mistress of the house. Karina's expression is stormy, as she kicks her shoes off and turns her gaze to her ghoul. "Where is he? Has he returned?"

Faltering for a moment, pondering who his mistress is referring to, Vincenzo inquires, "Alain, miss?"

She glares at him, lip curled in disgust. "Yes, fool. The wraith."

Vincenzo shakes his head. "Alain has not returned from his search. Wherever Signore Rosselini was staying, he has since moved on."

The young girl clenches a fist at her side. Silently, Robert and Cuthbert take Jackie's arm and unobtrusively exit the room, so it is her father that takes the brunt of the Necromancer's rage. The lance of obsidian energy hits Benedict square in the chest. He drops to his knees, a muffled howl of pain coming from his tongueless mouth. She snaps her fingers towards Shardik, and the Cerberus falls on the wraith, three sets of jaws snapping and biting at the prone man.

Karina turns from the sight, commencing her own pacing. Vincenzo watches, his expression conflicted, concerned. "Fools. Fucking morons. All of them. I told them, I told HER. And now, now they want to act. They want me to hunt my family." She spits her words out like venom. She stops, reaching her hand and arm through the shroud, into the Shadowlands. Staring at her limb in the grey, deathly landscape, she appears almost wistful. "If I were stronger, if my power was more developed, everything would be different." She pulls her arm back into the Skinlands, forcing air from her nose and forcing her expression into stoicism. She presses her palms together, gazing ahead into empty space. "I am expected to find him. By Tony. By the remnants of the Commission. By Blair. As if it wasn't until now that they realize the bond...the similarity..." she trails off, pressing her palms tighter. "If Bernito wishes to fulfill his plans, not one of us is capable of stopping him." She falls silent, resuming her pacing.

Vincenzo speaks, in a soothing, yet hesitant tone. "Then why stop him, Miss. There are little to no secrets between you and I. He is your family. The father your father should have been." He glares to the mauled and moaning wraith on the floor. "Lash out at me if you will, but do not deny that I speak true." He folds his hands together behind his back, peering at Karina with minimal fear.

Karina stops once more, her expression fluctuating between emotions too quickly to discern. And again, she retains control. "Sì. Tu parli vero, Vincenzo. And that's why I made my stipulations." Her voice is as close to human as it has been in months. "I take his place. I participate in his end, and I decide whether his soul is removed from the cycle of death." She remains calm as she continues. "Should the proposition fail, I will personally finish Bernito's work for him. E poi qualche."

Karina perches on the edge of an armchair, back straight, demeanor dignified. She reaches up, pulling her curls behind her shoulders and braiding them down her back. Shardik lumbers over, settling by her feet, one head licking between his paws. The young girl ties the end of her braid with a bow, before placing her hand, palm down on the arm of the chair. "I will find him. I will speak with Thomas, and inquire his insight. Perhaps his bond with Bernito will still reign strong enough to assist in finding him." Her expression grows contemplative, and she turns her attention to Vincenzo. "I will take my wraiths into the Shadowlands and search."

The ghoul's brow creases with confusion. "But, Miss Karina, you do not currently harness the ability to..." She arches an eyebrow at him as he seems to catch on to her intentions. "No. I will not have you...I refuse to toss you into such a landscape, defenseless, to fall to your uncle's wrath."

She listens, expressionless and still. "It is my responsibility and my duty, as it is for you to do as I say. And Vincenzo, you will comply. Non indugiare. I do not have time for your hesitance."

The young girl calls for her wraiths, all but one, and gives them each strict and direct orders. She turns to her ghoul, expectant. The old man, drops his gaze, rubbing at his forehead, weary and worried. After a few silently suspenseful moments, he looks back at Karina. His hands raise, as he chants in Italian. Within seconds, the girl's small body falls languid against the back of the chair, her head lolling against one shoulder. Shardik glances at his mistress, once head focused on her torpid body, another focused through the Sudario, at the manifestation of Karina's soul as she examines her surroundings. Vincenzo peers to his left, watching his young regnant in the Shadowlands. Her back turns and surrounded by her servants, she takes her leave, searching the hostile lands for her bloodhunted uncle.


End file.
